


Love Lies

by sunchild



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Military, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Anxiety Attacks, Ballet Dancer Yuri Plisetsky, Bars and Pubs, Boys Kissing, Boys' Love, CEO JJ, Confusion, Dancing, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Drama, Drinking, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Eventual Smut, Feels, Fights, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Gratuitous Smut, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I didn't mean it!, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Italics, Jean-Jacques Leroy Being an Asshole, Love, M/M, Mild Language, Military, Military Backstory, Military Uniforms, Nightmares, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Beta Read, Otabek is a soldier, Pilot Otabek, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Otabek Altin, References to Depression, Resolved Sexual Tension, Self-Indulgent, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut, Tags May Change, Talking, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Y'know plot, a very important tag, alternative universe, but - Freeform, but not really, my tags are always a mess, this is a mess, yup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-04-28 20:33:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 76,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14457198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunchild/pseuds/sunchild
Summary: Yuri's ghosts have haunted him for the past five years. And they are about to come back.When the man he once thought to be the love of his life returns from war, he realizes love can change entirely one single person in no time.And even more so, if they are taken once again after being left.Yuri had to make a decision, stop playing with his heart and facing the fact that he can't have everything in this life, even if he wants it all.Now, Yuri Plisetsky has to figure out where his love lies.Before someone else decides for him.Or!A Yuri-Centri love triangle were everything, even the author, is a mess. Sorry (not really) for this





	1. Tragic Circumstances

**Author's Note:**

> I suck with summaries, but just roll with it and give this thing a chance. I will eventualy change it, ha.  
> This has been something pretty self-indulgent, I just really wanted to write a love triangle and Otabek as a soldier so this happened.  
> Please, pretty please read the end work notes (no spoilers!) for more information about this. It is very important!  
> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy your stay ♡

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri barely knows where he stands right now, and he hates to see how everyone else pretends to do. He needs time and love, but where he has one to spare the other one seems to be absent of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summaries aren't my thing, eh.   
> Please read end work notes ! ! ♡ ¡Gracias~!   
> Hope you like this thing I've been working on. Much love to everyone.

 

“Morning, _Chaton_.”

Yuri stretched on the bed, hips pulled back as he smiled lazily at JJ. Something cracked and he held back a little laugh, opening his eyes to meet Jean’s.

_How long had it been since they woke up together?_

“Mornin’.” He mumbled once before lifting his head, throwing it back as his body traced a beautiful arch that he undid quickly, flopping on his stomach as he looked over to Jean.

He looked _way_ too good like that, shirtless and messy hair all over the crown of his head with the sunlight barely glowing over his tanned back. The muscles shifted as he moved slowly, barely rousing. Yuri pressed his little fingers against the small of his boyfriend’s ♡was he still _his_?) back. Yuri traced the tattoo with his lacquered nails and smiled at JJ, once more. Yuri tried to pull the same gesture back from the Canadian’s lips but it didn’t show up.  

“You look good.” He whispered, then. He wanted Jean to say _something_.

“It's because you're here.” Jean replied, bending to kiss the younger man before getting up. “I missed you.” He said to Yuri even if they were not even looking at each other anymore _._ Jean pulled his boxers into his legs and lifted himself so they rested where they belonged on his hips, fitting snuggly against the slender curves of his ass.

Yuri's heart dropped. Even if it's meant to be a phrase pronounced on love it sounds like an _accusation_.

Everything almost does now, and he _shouldn’t_ be complaining.

“I'll make breakfast.” Yuri replied as he got his pajama bottoms on and the loose tank top he dropped on the floor the night before, too. Somehow he was embarrassed of the dark hickeys resting on his stomach. He didn’t want to see them.

“Sure.” And with that, Jean closed the door to the bathroom. Not even a kiss or a hug before. Then the shower started running and Yuri sighed.

He wished he could just _go_ , then.

Instead he gets going, moving swiftly around everything to prepare the morning. He cleans up the room, just a bit, while putting away the dirty clothes and rearranging his drawers on the walk-in closet. He takes most of what’s left, feeling he shouldn’t leave so much around anymore. So Yuri packed his clothes and his practice gear into a tote bag he had there. He took his overnight backpack and walked outside of the second floor of the apartment. As soon as he was out of the bedroom, JJ comes from the bathroom and closes the door behind Yuri with a loud thud.

He felt locked away. Yuri knows he _is_ being locked away.

 

Walking over to the kitchen, Yuri hears his phone going off with a call but he ignores it. Instead, he starts by packing a lunch for Jean and another for himself as he manages to make him eggs and ham. Yuri has green tea and a grapefruit while making coffee, his phone goes off once more and he still won’t pick up.

Minutes pass, JJ’s still nowhere around and Yuri should get going to stretch properly… But he can’t, he can’t risk this _barely_ decent morning.

So he sipped his cold tea, just waiting for Jean to come back so he can go, and Yuri tried to think of anything else than the awkwardness pulling from his limbs to rip them apart. Instead, he breathes in and pulls his cell phone to look at the time as he pretends not to see the two missed calls from Mila. Yuri realizes he’s going to be twenty minutes earlier, at least, if he leaves in the next ten. And no matter how contradictory this all is, he doesn't want to stay around any longer, either.

“Thanks for everything, _bébé_.” Jean said as he pulled a cup out of a drawer, randomly appearing out of nowhere. “I suppose you have to go now.” He turned his back on him; Yuri had to speak instead of nodding.

He tried not to feel sent away.

“Yeah… I'll be back for... _Dinner_.” He breathed, not sure of what does that meant.

“I don't know, I have a meeting at downtown in the night. Maybe tomorrow you can stop by for lunch at my office?”

Jean never had meetings past six. _Never_. Yuri knew it.

Yuri looked back at him, blue eyes shining like he _actually meant_ he was sorry and Yuri couldn’t help but believe him. Even if he knows he’s lying. He looked so good on his gray ensemble that his boyfriend actually has to drink from his cup to ease the tremor of his voice, seeing him like that was just distracting. 

Yuri nodded and tried to put on his most sincere smile.

 _Everything’s still good_.

“Okay. Yes…” Jean beamed at him, like it was nothing and he wasn't pushing Yuri away from his life.

_Like he wasn't hurting him by pronouncing every word that fell from his lips._

“I'll walk you to the lift.” He said with his coffee in hand.

“Your breakfast is getting cold.” Yuri muttered as he turned away, dismissing the offer.

His boyfriend laughed maybe a little too loud. It was an awkward sound.

“Love you.” He said then, right after Yuri had turned his back on him.

“I know.” Yuri answered as he opened the door of the apartment. “Me too.”

Jean did not follow him.

 _Everything was_ _wrong_.

 

**-** **♡** **-**

It had been a while since he felt like he could actually trust himself to lose time just for a bit. Days passed by slowly; even when Yuri had finally reinserted himself into a life he had to admit he had missed, so he had the chance to spare seconds on himself. It was almost a miracle how he found himself picking up the pace of a routine he had thought long lost, and with that a sense of freedom he yearned from long time ago.

It was almost as if he had actually liberated himself through the _worst_ of the processes.  

 _And maybe that was why everything was out of place_.

He tried to focus on his _pirouettes_ around the classroom before something on his stomach went up at the thought of calling Jean, making him want to throw up. Yuri had to admit it was easier to turn on his tiptoes a thousand times a day than to deal with _real_ life. So he tried to go faster.

Yuri was a principal soloist at the National Company of Dance, one of the best in the international dance industry. A fact he was very proud of, after a lifetime of efforts and five consecutive years of study that seemed never-ending. He was happy as a professional artist, it provided for himself and his life and he had managed to get himself a family within his co-dancers and the different partners he had on the Company. The rehearsals, the tours and the experiences you got from simply doing what you loved the most, every day, was something that never tired the young man. It was what he had always said he would do when he grew up, and now he had the satisfaction to prove everyone that he always did what he wanted. For         Yuri, there was nothing better. He was truly living his dream.

Even _now_ , when he couldn’t seem to get those fouettés right after what felt like the ninetieth try.

“You're going to knock someone unconscious with that leg, _Yurio_.”

He turned to the door, stopping dry and almost roared at the shorter man leaning on the frame.

“ _Don't_ call me that!” He looked positively murderous when glaring at Yuuri, his emerald eyes sucking the soul out of him as his friend seemed pleased with his response. Yuri was quite amusing every now and then.

“Hey I'm not the one who's going to rip my own limbs!” He raised his palms on a self-defense gesture before chuckling. “You okay?”

“Okie fucking dokey.” Yuri barked and Yuuri snickered even more as he got closer.

Aggression set aside, both of them were very good friends. They had known each other since highscool and decided to stick around when they found out they had similar career in pursuit. Yuuri was also a principal dancer, not a soloist since he was more focused on choreographies than performances but still his presence on any stage was simply excellent. He also happened to be engaged to Yuri’s most annoying cousin and in charge of the summer production of the Company, making him a never ending presence on Yuri’s life. Yet, he was _thankful_ for it.

“Leo's bar is opening tomorrow tonight.” He said, brushing some wild strands of gold hair out of his face. .

“I _know_.” Yuri answered as he pulled his hair into a cleaner bun, avoiding his best friend’s inquiring gaze.

He was about to ask something.

But why should Yuri complain? They were best friends; there was a silent but undisputable support among them. Yet he knew he didn’t want to answer his questions. Doing so would only mean accepting what he was facing.

“Are you coming?” Yuri only nodded, shoulders dropping before his arms followed, his eyes finally meeting Yuuri’s. “Is _Jean_ coming?”

He didn't dare to meet his friend's eyes once more, even when he had finished. Instead he only turned around and pretended not to hear that last question. It was no use.

_He can see straight right through you._

“I'll have Victor pick you up by eight…” Yuuri said even when his friend tried to ignore him.

“I'm _not_ pre-gamming with your stupid fiancé around.” He groaned.

“He won’t be around.” Yuuri deadpanned. “He’ll leave us alone for the night. Victor will get to the bar later. He is having dinner with Yakov and his bosses before.”

Victor, his most annoying cousin, was a Marketing Leader on some enterprise rival to Jean’s. The man had the brains for his own but his bigger charm made him perfect for the position. Yuri lied to himself saying that the only reason he liked him was because he was so good at his job he made Jean go _insane_ every time Victor’s campaigns shadowed his own to the point where JJ could only take full-days breaks. There were more reasons but Yuri would _never_ speak about them. Yet he was always swimming in work, like Yuri’s own boyfriend. But that’s why both of them afforded nice places to live in and indulged their boyfriends every time they stared whining about something _pretty_.

Yuri nodded, accepting only after listening to that. They had been engaged for a year and Yuuri recently moved in with Victor, he didn’t want to intrude in their love nest unless he was sure he wouldn’t annoy _them_ , for once.

“Fine, then.”

He tried his best to look up to Yuuri with something on his lips close to a sympathetic ‘thank you’ smile before turning to the _barré_ , where he started doing stretches while hoping Yuuri would go away after their little _insignificant_ chat.

He _obviously_ dated his annoying cousin because Yuuri was also _annoying_.

“Don't think I can't see right through your crap, Yuri- _kun_. You don't own him shit.”

But also they dated because they were ridiculously perceptive and supportive.

Not saying a thing more, he left.

Yuri bit back his tears and nodded, even when Yuuri couldn't see him anymore. He was so tired.

 _He knew Yuuri was absolutely right_.

 

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuuri Katsuki wasn’t the only one engaged, though.  

Jean had proposed to him a month ago after their third year anniversary party,  when the restaurant they had dinner with their friends had been empty and the lights were turned off for a brief second before they came back to light up Jean, knelt in his expensive oxblood suit, with a huge diamond ring in a bright blue box.

Yuri was about to throw up.

He felt a jab to his stomach at the image, one he was all too familiar with; to the point where the sight was uncomfortable, almost unbearable. Yet, Yuri had to acknowledge that he had not seen that kind of shine on Jean’s eyes in forever, and now that it was once more in front of him, it turned out to be lovely sight.

_Yuri did not deserve to see him like that._

JJ, a man usually pretending to be above anyone else with that shit-eating grin and a plastered look of superiority when he gave those corny speeches on behalf of his company, shouldn’t seem so _humbled_ at the sight of a simple, scrawny and messy dancer who stared at him with big doe eyes, hazy with confusion. Yuri would’ve never supposed he had that effect on such a confident, mature man.

Jean never looked so _afraid,_ and being knelt there to a five foot nine artist in the middle of a lonely, expensive restaurant, shouldn’t look like such a challenge. Yuri knew his boyfriend could not be intimidated by anything and yet he was so fearful of what could come next after whatever he said in the following minutes that it almost outshone the look of adoration on his eyes. Blue steel gaze usually colder than ice seemed to hold a warmth Yuri had not known before in three years of relationship, it was heavy and thick enough to make them both blush as Jean whispered something in hurried French. But his overall expression, one of uncertainty and doubt, darkened his features into something worrisome.

“I want you to be with me forever, it’s the only thing my life needs to be complete. It’s the _only_ thing _I_ need to be complete.” Jean sounded like he was begging, and he _never_ begged.

_What was happening?_

And there they were, both dressed on their most expensive outfits after smiling and drinking the night away in hurried kisses and hidden laughter among family and friends. They had raised glasses of champagne and toasted for a future as bright as the couple, as powerful and successful as only _they_ were. And of course to the promise of _tomorrow_. Everyone sounded so sure when they said it, so confident of their words. They _thought_ future and destiny held for them something great and clear, a marriage and a family and oh, so much happiness. Everyone thought the couple was granted with many days following that one; they all imagined it was so obvious, perfect for them.  

The only thing they had to do was stay together, time would craft everything else.

But what did _they_ know?

 “You've always been everything I've ever wanted and more…” He whispered after a speech Yuri had not listened at all. “My life will never be completed without you, Yuri.”

Tears stung his eyes, what would he do now?

He just… couldn’t.

“ _Marry me_.”

Yuri still wishes to this day he could’ve sunk on Jean’s image just for a little bit longer, but back then he didn’t know it was a once in a lifetime chance of actually knowing how much Jean loved him. Yuri knew JJ would never be that open ever again and he just dismissed it as he shook his head, violently shaking as those two words erupted a hundredth and three memories inside his head and heart.

He felt like he was nineteen again, naked and excited as he looked up to a starless sky, dark by pollution, and heard for the first time that phrase that would mean more than anything else in his whole life. He was weak and hurt once more, feeling open and vulnerable to a man who he knew could love him and care for him but Yuri just wouldn’t let him because he was just so, so afraid.

Afraid of being let down once more.

He had said yes once, so much time ago he felt like he didn’t know the word anymore.

So he couldn’t say it once more. He didn’t want to be hurt once more.

“I…” He breathed, tearing his eyes away from Jean who now looked downright _terrified_.

Maybe it was the fact Yuri was just too pathetic, or that Jean didn't even _ask_. Perhaps it had more to do with the love of his life being so fucking far away it still made Yuri cry like the first day he had ever been without him. Or that he was afraid everything would repeat once more and he would cave in just like _that_ , giving up and leaving everything behind himself. Yuri said to himself all that couldn’t happen ever again, that he just could _not_ lose. He was supposed to have this shit in control.

And somehow none of that seemed good enough to look down to Jean and say it.

Yuri knew it was almost meant to be, he _almost_ said yes. 

It had been right there, at the tip of his tongue.

But for _whatever_ reason he had, for any excuse he could come up with, he felt like if he said that simple word, his world would crumble once more..

 “No. I can't.” Yuri muttered before turning around and running like hell had opened its gates just behind him.

 _There had been something Yuri couldn’t control_.

 

**-** **♡** **-**

For all that he cared, Yuri could just crash on his couch and sleep all of his sorrows away like the fucking dead, but he had promised not only stupid _Katsudon_ and Leo that he would go, but also Mila and she would rip off his head if he didn’t show up early and tipsy enough to pull her into some dumb dancing to shake her boredom away.

So yeah, he _had_ to go.

Slipping into the tub, he tried not to frown too hard as he breathed in the soft lavender aroma coming off from the hot water. His long fingers traced numb circles on the surface of it and then drew a long, lazy line up to his chest. He tapped the pad of his index against his collarbone before tugging at the gold chain falling freely over his shoulders.

There was an _actual_ reason why he had declined Jean’s marriage proposal. An actual, _valid_ motive that could _never_ be an excuse.

He thought about it every single day of his life.

Following the golden line, his fingers caught the band between the strand he had been touching, pressing the warm metal just to be sure it was still there.

_He couldn’t even look at it._

Yuri Plisetsky was not afraid of commitment, nor did he used to recoil long term relationships or the promise of a settled future with just one man.

But he had made a _promise_.

He had promised one man to wait for him, to wear that ring every day of his life until he came back and gave him something bigger and more worthy of his love. Yuri had said that that simple ring would be enough, but he _swore_ and insisted he could do better. Yuri had said no to Otabek because he was _already_ engaged. Even if he didn’t know, even if he had lied for three straight years of a relationship just because he wanted to feel something once more. He had screwed up, yes, but why did he ever got so deep in this whole mess?

Jean deserved more, Yuri too.

And as usual, nobody truly knew _hell_ , and he wasn’t one to give explanations.

But sometimes, when his boyfriend’s co-workers and his own partners looked at him like he was nothing but a greedy, selfish, gold digger; he wished he could just tell them _everything_. Yuri wanted to scream and cry and let them know why he spent most of his time writing letters that were never sent but always kept under his bed as if they were actual treasures and not only ink-stained paper. He wanted to show them the pictures, the texts, the letter he _received_ along with that same ring he was clenching between his fist right now. Yuri wished everyone just _knew_ , even if they didn’t _understand_.

He missed Otabek so much… But they had stopped writing. He probably had forgotten all about him. He probably had somebody else. Maybe he used his leave permits to go somewhere sunny and exotic. Maybe he met somebody else who received his letters and had the opportunity to count down the days before his next visit. Maybe he had somebody waiting with days counted and not with uncertainty that burned every step of his way.

Yuri only knew he was _alive_ because he still saw his little sister every now and then and she told them about the letters _they_ received. He only knew he was well because he had not been invited to any funeral, yet.

And the longing, the _craving_ drove him crazy.

There were days when Yuri would almost let everything go, when he felt on the verge of exploding. Days when he wanted nothing else but to scream the truth at everyone. Jean included.  

But he _never_ did.

So nobody knew.

He had put himself on this situation and he _knew_ it.

Clenching the ring and filling his lungs with air, he submerged fully on the water until his blonde hair tangled around him like silk draped over marble. He hoped that his thoughts were drowned, even if he wasn’t.

 _Yuri wished he could drown_.

 

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuri had known Jean from his last high school days; he was studying on the business faculty of the state university when Yuri had to go on a college visit. He, unlike his classmates, had _always_ known what to do with his life. He was going to become a professional dancer and that was it, no school could provide him what he wanted other than the arts conservatory that held the Dance Academy so he just tagged along for the promise of a free lunch.

Seeing him, though, had been worth more than just the bother of waking up early in the morning.

Yuri was walking around with Yuuri, Leo, and some other kids when their tutor ♡ _luckily_ Yuri’s cousin and today’s Yuuri’s husband to be) pushed the main door to the library as Jean-Jacques held it for them with that shit-eating grin that to this day still managed to make Yuuri blush like an awkward teenager.

“Ah, James!” Victor chirped.

“It’s _Jean_ , Nikiforov.” He said, sounding tired but keeping on that know-it-all gesture that lit up his eyes like a flare. The group Victor was in charge of giggled. “Are you in charge of the future freshmen?” He looked over at Yuri, specifically.

“Yes, well except for Yura right here. He’s already on the Arts Conservatory scholarship programme. Also Yuuri's waiting for his acceptance letter but it won't harm them to get to know us.” He said proudly. “Even if I already know he’s getting it.”

Yuri would’ve said something teasing about Yuuri’s blush but JJ’s stare didn’t allow him to even _move_.

_Why was him staring?_

“Yura will be a great classical dancer; as far as I know he enrolled on the dancing summer school to polish up his technique.” Victor commented as his eyes did his own job analyzing Jean’s reaction towards his cousin.

“Have been for more than a while, thank you.” Yuri almost barked. He did not like his passion to be taken so lightly.

“Oh, really?” The interest on JJ’s voice made it straight to Yuri’s head. It sounded way too real. “Mind if I join, Victor?”

The other one shook his head.

“Let's go.”

Yuri had to acknowledge his eyes immediately glued to Jean’s frame, he was _precious_. Tall and slim, back then fair skinned and his blue eyes shone on its own inside the huge library. He smiled way too much and Yuri almost told him to shut up three or four times but then he turned around and looked at him with something poor, highscool Yura didn't understand but decided to label as _interest_. It was an exhilarating feeling.  

Yuri had never been so _confused_ in his life.

He wanted to punch the guy right in the face, but also kind of kiss it until his lips _bled_.

Yuri scolded himself, he had a _boyfriend_. And even if he wasn’t Otabek, he still deserved _respect_.

Yet, when Jean asked for his number, just to know when his next dance performance would be, Yuri muttered it under his breath before walking hurriedly in search of his cousin who had left minutes before with the group he had been in charge of. Yuri didn't understand why he would've done that, the guy was clearly not looking for a friendship and yet he already had Yuri wrapped around his finger even when he had said he wouldn’t give into whatever Jean was _trying_.

But oh, he _did_.

Yuri hated him, after that day and out of nothing.  But even he knew that it was only his head's poor excuse to make up for the fact that Jean attracted him like a powerful magnet. It wasn't purposeful or natural, it felt more like dangerous instinct telling him what to do and Yuri hated the idea of being driven by his gut alone. He liked to _think beforehand._ He liked to feel focused on his own.

Therefore he said to himself he _hated_ him. Yuri said so to his friends, Victor and even his _dedka_ that he hated him.

Everyone knew it. Everyone but the one who should’ve known first.

 _And he didn´t like secrets_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lets just hold on to our phones and wait for this to be updated, okay? Hope you liked the beginning and, believe me, there's still a long way to go. Even if I won't allow myself to be longer than 10 chapters I swear there will be a lot of shit going down...   
> ¡Besos a todos! ♡ ♡


	2. Love for What

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night is supposed to be for resting, sleeping. But somehow it turns out to be where most of Yuri's problems surface.   
> And some are so much bigger than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit is going down.

Yuri walked over to Victor's car, pulling the door open as his cousin ruffled his hair with his free hand as he finished texting something on his cell phone.

“You look good, Yura.” He pointed out.

“I know.” He was wearing a pair of ripped, boyfriend cut jeans with combat boots and a fitted lilac-sleeved Henley. His hair was down in long golden waves and he put on his gold, hoop earrings. Sometimes wearing nothing but latex and dance gear was too much for him. So he wanted to go casual today.

“Heard Jean isn't coming. Wanna stay over tonight?” Victor asked absently as he started driving to his place.

Victor was annoying not only because he was his own kind of obnoxious _smiler_ , or because he walked around life like being alive was an every-day gift. He was annoying because he cared, and he cared deeply for the ones he loved the most. He was disgustingly supportive and loving, nosing around everywhere just to make sure things were okay. And it bothered Yuri because he liked it, he appreciated the gesture of worry and preoccupation that lingered not only because they were family but because that labeled him as somebody Victor loved.

“And hear you and Katsudon bang the entire night?” He snorted. “God, _no_.”

Victor laughed loudly.

“Not happening if you're there.”

He was also very thoughtful, but Yuri would let him now that only on his deathbed.

“Like if I _didn't_ know how your boyfriend gets when he drinks.” Yuri tried his best to hide his laugh, but he couldn't. Victor poked his cheek and smiled directly at him.

Blinding as that gesture was, Yuri liked it. No matter how much he _said_ he hated his cousin, it was family and all that hatred was, in fact, a lie. The support this man had given him meant everything to Yuri.

Even if he went a bit overboard every now and then.

Like when he wanted to rip off Jean's head when he heard the aftermath of Yuri's rejection but that was only because he cared a lot. He was a bit extra but it sort of was a family trait and Yuri had learnt to deal with it long ago. Once upon a time, he had to start with himself.  

“Well you're welcome anytime you want.” He didn't have to say anything but Yuri knew by the tone of his voice that there were a thousand questions lingering on his mouth. Everyone seemed to interested on his life, now.  

And Yuri wanted to talk with him and find out what was happening but he wasn't ready just _yet_ , no matter how much he needed some help to get answers. Yuri needed time to think and even when he said he would put distance between Jean and himself to clear his mind and do things right, he couldn't stay away for too long and that kept clouding his judgment. So he only hoped that time would make it work. When _that_ happened, he would try to talk to a real adult about his problems.

“Thank you.” He whispered without looking back at him. Yuri only tried to prep himself on sticking to _four_ drinks.

Tomorrow he had to practice a lot for an important audition in the weekend that would be held at the Academy for some international competition where his company was sending only the best three dancers, and he had to do an audition to participate on it. It had been a long time since he ever danced for money but this time, since it was a major contest, Yuri couldn’t resist but see what would happen if he got to be one of the selected by the National Company.

Therefore, he had to stay sober the whole night to be ready and fresh like a daisy the morning after.

 _Like_ fuck _he would do pirouettes with a headache._

 

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuuri downed his third tequila shot, biting harshly into the lemon before smiling brightly at Yuri, who tried his best to hide that _damn_ smile that idiot always managed to pull out of his mouth.

He knew he would not get through his stupid “three drinks” bullshit.

“You're _disgusting_.” Yuri tried to say when he saw Yuuri licking the thumb glass as he stared at Victor through his thick eyelashes.

“Yeah, whatever. Let's go!” Now that he finally had a little of alcohol in his system, the kid felt much more relaxed and eager to get the night started. Yuri nodded and followed Yuuri around “I'll go get the keys, Victor!” Yuuri smiled and sneaked out if the living room, leaving Yuri alone with the tequila bottle for him to look at with yearning eyes.

He should’ve known that once he had one drink, he would want the whole fucking bottle.

But _no_. He had to stay sober.

_You always do so much shit when drunk._

“I’ll stop by in two hours, tops.” Yuri nodded at Victor, not meeting his gaze. “Make sure Yuuri doesn’t drink too much while I’m away. Once I’m there he can get _fucked_ but not before, who knows what he would do.”

Yuuri snorted.

“Heard you!” Yuuri said from the bedroom as soon as he heard Victor’s voice.

Yuuri came back with the keys as Victor followed him like the little, lost puppy he seemed to become around the dancer. While his cousin was dressed in some fancy suit Yuuri was clad in sinfully tight jeans with embroidered roses at the back pockets and thighs, a pair of casual but well kept black sneakers and a silver mesh top that was very see-through, the red bomber jacket over his shoulders barely concealing the fact that you could see so much past the fabric.  

Yuri tried to keep his snarl to himself; his best friend would definitely steal the night tonight.

Not that he cared, Yuri had a boyfriend whom he loved dearly and didn’t need eyes of other people over him. He had the attention that he needed.

_Or at least that's what he told himself._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Fuck that audition, Yuri didn’t need the goddamned money.

Because he was totally _wasted_.

Yuri had sabotaged his own resolve of staying sober the whole night the second he stepped foot inside the bar. Leo came crashing down the stairs and hugged him so tightly Yuri almost threw up all over his friend’s linen shirt. Then the guy shoved a full-liter _michelada_ and a round of Margaritas for Yuuri and himself.

Maybe, just _maybe¸_ it would’ve been better if he only stayed at home that night.

But it was too late for that, now he was trashing his head side to side as some loud, raunchy song in Spanish blasted from the speakers with more than several drinks buzzing through his system.

 _'Mi Casa_ ’ had been a total success, it was packed to the brim with people dancing and drinking as alcohol and food flew all over the place. The staff was amazing, dinner even better and the whole set-up of the place seemed just perfect for the vibe it tried to give off. It was warm with a tropical vibe going on, neon lights everywhere and a lot of traditional wooden furniture. The aesthetic was very Latin and it literally _glowed_ inside-outside in the middle of the dull district it was located. That alone would drag a lot of costumers.

Yuri snapped a couple of pictures and uploaded them to his stories before sending a selfie to his boyfriend. One that went unanswered.

Huffing, Yuri furiously typed some quick message and pressed ‘send’ before he could think of anything else.

_You coming?_

_I just got home, I don't know Yuri_

_Leo really wanted to see you here_

‘Me too’, Yuri thinks but he feels like he doesn't have the right to say anything about it. About anything, if he’s honest with himself.

So he just waits.

_It's late. You should be resting_

_This is better than I initially thought_

_Maybe I'll hang out just a bit more..._

_K_

_I'm going bed now_

_C'mon Jean…_

_Goodnight Yuri_

It was past midnight already, Yuuri was behind him, drunkenly dancing with Victor with such a pace and rhythm that let Yuri know his cousin was already _fucked_ up too. Yuuri’s bomber jacket long lost and all eyes on him as he circled his hips. Even the man dancing with Yuri, whoever he was, couldn't keep his eyes off of his best friend.

But he couldn't blame him.

Also it was working on his favor, as he texted Jean while the other guy kept his eyes following Yuuri shamelessly.

_I miss you, you should be here_

His cell phone only marked the message as _read_. No reply at all.

So Yuri just took a long swig of the bottle in his hands and traced circles over his own foot before swaying his hair side to side. Dancing on his own, with nothing but a couple of hands on his waist, and no cares about his boyfriend as he tried to forget everything that had happened up to that moment in the night.

Yuri couldn't remember the last time he got _this_ drunk, to the point where he was still conscious but absolutely careless of what he did or what happened around him. His Henley was unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up and his jeans hanging dangerously low from his slim hips while rotating them to the beat of the song. He had been very loose the whole night and from his drinking pattern it seemed that tonight he was more than willing to end up crashing on Victor's couch until tomorrow noon.

“Wanna sit down?” The man behind Yuri screamed over the thud of the song once he saw Victor kissing his fiancé.

“No!” Yuri replied, turning around and walking away to where Mila chugged her own beer, not caring about the man he just dropped.

Passing by Yuuri, who flashed him a smile before waving for a second, Yuri rushed to the redhead and slammed his empty bottle at her booth.

“Shit Yura, calm down.” She giggled. “No boyfriend tonight?”

“Or _any_ night.” He replied before realizing what he said. Growling, he sat down and pressed his hands to his head. “Shut up.”

“Didn't say anything.” Mila laughed and put her own bottle down before standing up. “C'mon you owe me a dance.”

Yuri rolled his eyes but nodded, after all he really wasn't in the mood for staying down the rest of the night.

The song changed once more and his phone beeped with a notification.

_I'll stop by in ten_

Little as it was, Yuri felt that message like some sort of victory.

He nodded as relief flooded him and took one of Mila's hands to turn her around. There was a time where she was taller than Yuri but after his growth spurt on his freshman year at college, there were few people who could tower over him.

“Hey Yuri.” Mila was smiling cheekily at him, and somehow that only made Yuri want to ignore her.

“Shut up _baba_ I'm trying to have a good time here.” He said with no venom on his words but she didn't press further and Yuri let her take him by the waist to swing their hips at the same beat.

Someone offered them a couple of shots and they took them without much thought, downing them before placing the little thumb glasses at the waiter’s pan. Smiling to him, they engaged once more on their senseless dancing when a couple of girls joined them with a loud laugh.

One of them immediately latched herself to Mila who smiled hugely at her to hold her hand as they danced together, too.

The other one tried to do the same with Yuri, and the dancer felt sorry for a split second. Girl didn't know she had no chance… and not precisely because Yuri was taken but because he was only attracted to, sadly, idiots with junk between their legs. Yet the Russian complied, turning partially so Mila was on one side and the other girl on the other one.

“I'm Isabella…” She screamed at his ear. “But call me Bella! She's Sara!”

“Yuri!” He replied, looking between his new friends before glancing at Mila who threw him an excited thumbs up.

At least she was enjoying it more than _enough_ for the two of them.

Gyrating his body in slow rolls, the group of four found a rhythm to keep while smiling and laughing at everyone's fun antics, some more ridiculous than the other but still very entertaining for all parts involved.

Sara, Yuri soon learnt her name, was eying Mila and Yuri as if she was trying to decipher something while the redhead wiggled her eyebrows at Yuri when he pulled out his phone to check some message that made it vibrate with a notification.

 _I'm out, see you in a sec._ Read the message. 

“Listen Yurio!” She called him but the younger was a bit too caught up on his dancing to hear her. The music was good even if he didn't know shit about what it said. Instead he only relaxed and kept moving his body like the people around him. For a professional dancer with a degree on classical and a minor on contemporary he sure was dancing like he didn't know more than to move his waist and hips that day. But he couldn´t care.

_I'm inside, tell me when you're at the bar_

_I'll go get you_

“Jean’s coming!” Yuri said to Mila, who nodded to him before trying to grip his shoulder.

“Yuri I need to tell you before I forget!” She tried once more but the blond just blew her off with a wave of his hand as Yuri tried to scoot away from the bunch of girls. He kind of heard Mila saying something in Russian but he didn’t mind about it.

“Are you together?” Isabella asked then, as if he was trying to make him stay. Yuri chuckled before shaking his head. He was about to open his mouth to answer when a long, strong arm wrapped around his waist and yanked him a little too harshly away from Bella's attempting grip.

“Found you.” Yuri shivered at Jeans voice, before they kissed deeply. When the couple pulled away, there was an annoyed glare at Jean Jacques’ blue eyes. He was _not_ pleased.

“Hey bae.” Yuri said to his boyfriend, trying to sound nonchalant while directing his view to Jean, who seemed to be analyzing Isabella critically.

“I know you from somewhere…” He huffed over the music and Bella only rolled her eyes, trying to hide her smile.

“Worked as an intern at your company a year ago.” She said, a bit bothered.

“Ah! That makes sense.” Then he viewed Mila. “Hey.” He acknowledged her with a nod and a little smile to Sara, who watched him with curiosity.

None of them did more than smile back before going back to their dancing, flowing with the music as Yuri was pulled away from the dance floor.

“You're drunk.” Jean pointed as they sat at a bar stool, Yuri on his lap as he realized his boyfriend had been able to taste the alcohol on his mouth perfectly.

“Well it's a bar what else could I do?” Yuri giggled, still feeling airy but not enough to ignore Jean's troubled mood.

“You were also dancing very… _freely_ , with that chick.” He bit his lips and turned to the barman, asking for mineral lemonade.

“If you wanted to say _'like a whore_ ’ it would've been fine by me. And her name’s _Bella_.” Yuri spat and tried to squirm away from Jean's hold before being squeezed flush against his strong chest.

“I didn't mean it like that.” His lips grazed over the expanse of Yuri's neck. “I'm sorry. You just looked like you were enjoying yourself… It's been a while since I saw you like that.”

 _It’s your fault_.

Yuri nodded and looked up to Jean, not saying a thing.

There was something unsaid on those steel blue eyes, something yearning to be out but that was kept tightly inside because of something that might’ve been fear.

Yuri _really_ had fucked up.

Yet, he didn't say anything either. What could he?

Yuri limited himself to lean and kiss Jean's jaw with soft nips of his lips, trying his best to distract him. He wanted him to reciprocate but there was nothing coming out of Jean. He was still and almost stiff at Yuri’s attempts at affection.

“Bella seemed to like you…” he said bitterly, instead. “Did she like you?”

Yuri snorted, annoyed and tried to get off of him once more. He didn't like jealousy.

_It hurt to be reminded about caring too much._

**-** **♡** **-**

Yuri saw Jean once more at one of his dance presentations days before starting his second year at college. Their city was pretty big and it always seemed to be buzzing with the breathing of thousands of people who lived on it. It was rowdy, crowded and generally packed with both citizens and tourists, making it a living maze for everyone on it. Therefore, it had been a year since they saw each other for the first time and, since then, they had never encountered.

 _How_?

Yuri actually wondered why, since they had several paths already crossed.

That _didn’t_ mean he had been thinking of seeing him again.

“I never thought you danced like that.” Jean blurted as soon as Yuri pushed through the crowd trying to talk to him just to say hi to the man who sat on the front row.

Yuri almost blushed when he heard him.

“Like _what_?” He asked, trying to sound confident even if he looked down at the floor.

“Like you own the world.” He breathed out before pushing the sunflowers at him, glancing sideways, like he couldn't see what he was doing. “You were- you _are_ beautiful.”

Yuri couldn't lift his face; he was smiling like he didn’t for _anyone_.

_Dancing had never seemed so special._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

 “Well I didn't. She was missing… _Something_.” Yuri tried to sound funny as he reached the floor and pulled away from Jean, asking for a beer at the counter.

“Was it the money or the eyes?” Jean gave him that cocky smile Yuri fucking _hated_. He tried to ignore it but there was something pulling from his tongue, making him wanting to spill bloody _venom_ at him in response.

“It was the _dick_.” He said angrily then, turning on his heels after he grabbed his beer. He walked, rage filled, towards Yuuri and sat down beside him. The Japanese stared at him curiously, eyeing Victor before speaking.

“Everything okay?”

Yuri huffed.

“Can we just go?” He sighed and asked, looking down to his bottle before taking a large swig from it.

“I'll go pay our bill.” Victor got up then, but JJ was there once more and put his hand over Yuri's shoulder, pressing his nails into the bare skin of his collarbone.

“That won't be necessary, Victor. Thank you.” He stared at Yuuri before speaking once more. “Enjoy your night.” And then he was grabbing his boyfriend's hand to pull him up.

_Yuri could still feel his nails digging into himself._

He was simply speechless. Almost.

“What the fuck? Leave me alone!” He barked, trying to shake away from his iron grip.

Jean tried to pull him closer to his body but Yuri's reaction was to push him away until they found a spot in the middle of the dance floor.

This wasn’t Jean. This wasn’t the loving, _adorable_ dork who smiled at Yuri every time he got pissed and tried to bite Jean when he was acting funny. This was no ‘I’m not jealous, there’s no one better than me’ who laughed after he spoke and kissed Yuri until he was smiling at their kiss. This man, the one who got turned down by another man who didn’t know better, was someone who jealousy and insecurities turned into a monster who couldn’t trust the one who loved him the most. t

“Oi, Yuri!” He almost pushed him when he tried to bit his hand to be released from his grip, but Jean only held him from the waist, instead.

“If I  have known you would’ve shown up getting all _douchebag_ on me I would’ve _never_ called you.” He said, trying to squirm away.

“I’m not the one who is dancing all sexy and shit to some other girl in the middle of a second-class bar.”

“That’s way out of the line; you know how fucking hard Leo worked for this place.” He stopped moving, his eyes digging holes into Jean’s forehead. “And I was just making _friends,_ since my idiot boyfriend won’t hang out with me anymore.”

They stared down at each other, Jean letting go of him as both stood there perfectly still.

_It’s like I don’t even know you anymore._

“Hey, I'm sorry.” JJ moved closer once more and tried to hold Yuri, but he stepped back and pinned him to where he was with one single look. “I was jealous, okay? It just seemed like you…”

“Like _nothing_! Stop thinking you own me, fuck!” He gripped his hair-tie and yanked it from his golden locks as the music blasted through the speakers. “I wanted you to be here, I called. _Didn't_ I?” Jean only rolled his eyes and nodded. “They we're all there for Mila and I just stayed around because I was waiting. For _you_. They happened to be nice people so I stayed. That’s it!”

“How was I supposed to know?” Jean was still not screaming, and Yuri only wanted him to get fucking _mad_.

 _Yuri only wanted him to show he_ _cared_.

Yet he only stood there, waiting for the next sentence to spill from of his lips.

“You turn me down after three years of dating, you ignore me for months. You can’t even _look_ at me the same way and you only stay at my place to fuck! I feel like I’m losing you, of course            I’m insecure enough to think you will leave me.”

People started to notice their banter, dancing slower around them and peaking from the corner of their eyes just to know what was going on. Yuri even saw the guy he was dancing with getting closer to them.

“You didn't need to make a scene out of it!” He turned around and tried his best not to face him. “These things are to be talked, don’t pretend to know it all just from watching me!”

Jean saw the crowd going quiet, and he glared at anyone close enough to them.

“Mind your own fucking business!” Yuri barked at all of them. Now he was the one taking Jean’s hand to pull him towards the bathrooms. It was still noisy but at least not crowded.

“You’re right.” JJ looked down, sounding genuinely sorry. “I… I’m just scared. Things are so weird between us and I just don’t want to lose you. Married or not, I wanna stay with you.”

Yuri didn’t even know what to say now. Jean didn’t know much about his past, his other relationships, his last proposal… He just knew what Yuri told him and he had said that that was just enough. He had said he didn’t want to know more, that he didn’t care since they were together now but now Yuri wished he knew that he understood. Maybe that way he would’ve never asked. Maybe that way they wouldn’t be stuck in this estranged relationship that kept them together out of habit instead of love.

“Stop thinking I'm going away from you.” He said bitterly, tears starting to flow free from his eyes.

“I just… I'm afraid I might lose you.” Jean was there, then, holding him from behind and whispering to his ear.

“S’ _kay_. You won't.” He breathed in, trying to drown every single memory that came with words like those.

_Where could he go?_

As fucked up as their situation was, Yuri still loved him. It was tiring and sometimes he wished Jean was just a bit more understanding but he truly loved him, nevertheless. He made him feel appreciated, desired, loved. It wasn’t fair to make him put up with so much bullshit.

Not even the other way around, but Yuri still wouldn’t say much.

“I'm sorry for everything I've done up to now. I'm sorry for being like _this_.” He felt Jean shaking his head and Yuri felt sorry for him. For both of them. “Give us a chance like this. Marriage is only a paper, anyway.”

 _Bullshit._  

Jean nodded and Yuri felt it through his neck.

“Okay, _Chaton_. I'm sorry, too.” He breathed in and kissed his shoulder. “I love you.”

“Okay.” Yuri muttered before he turned around and wrapped his arms around Jean's neck. He tried to smile just a bit but his lips wouldn't cooperate. “Love you, too.”

 _He knew this was just routine_.  

**-** **♡** **-**

It had been another month.

Life still felt _wrong_ , like he had lost his course and now wandered through a nameless city were everything and everyone were unknown. It was tiring, _exhausting_. But he didn’t know what to do or where to turn, he had never fucked up something so bad in his life and now that he had it was so strange to him. He wanted to fix it, he knew he had to fix it. Jean was his everything once and he could still be, he loved him and they were just made for each other. They fitted even if they had to cut some pieces of the past to be one single piece. It took them time and effort but they _made_ it and now Yuri just felt… Incomplete. Jean had truly been the best of him.

He wanted to save their relationship, to change it.

But even after what happened at Leo’s… Jean still didn’t give them a chance. He still didn’t give Yuri a chance.

He still crashed at his cousin's apartment every night. He felt too lonely at his apartment on the Academy Residence and Jean simply didn’t show any signs of wanting him at his place.  

Yuri was actually pissed off at his boyfriend, now.

But did he really have the right? _Probably_ not.

Now, did he care? _Also_ no.

That's why he ended up at Leo's bar once more, fiddling with his hair as Sara and Mila made out messily at the counter with a bartender pushing a set of shots at them. The Russian pulled back from Sara and took the first glass to push it into her mouth. Then another, a third and lastly a fourth before Sara followed suit. She finished earlier than Mila and winked when the red hair stared hungrily at her.

Yuri groaned, rubbing his eyes and flopping on the counter as he sipped pathetically at his mojito. He stared at his phone.

No missed calls, zero new messages. He almost moaned in sadness.

“ _Yuuraaa_ ~” Like she just materialized there, Mila appeared behind him and rubbed her long hands all over Yuri's hair. “You look so _saaad_!” Hiccupping, she seated closer to her. “What's wrong?”

He just huffed.

“Jean _doesn’t_ deserve shit.” She caressed Yuri's arm. “And you should know better.”

He shook his head.

“That's _not_ true.”

Mila snorted.

“So _loyal_.” She sipped from the man's drink. “Tell you what, if you come dancing with me I'll tell you some that will make you feel way better.” She giggled. “Or _not_.”

Yuri gave her the _nastiest_ look he could come up with.

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I'm not saying!” She chirped and pulled Yuri up. Or at least tried to.

“Mila. What?” He spat once more, still seated.

“It's nothing, forget it…” She tried to go away but the grip on her wrist was too hard. Something on her eyes gave away the notion that she might’ve overshared.   

“You don't say _shit_ like that like you don't mean it, _baba_. Tell me.” He barked once more before releasing Mila. Somehow, he held her there with his emerald gaze.

Mila visibly shivered and shook his head before inhaling deep air. It was like she tried to look anywhere else, to ignore Yuri.

“I'm _waiting_.”

She bit her lip; suddenly she wasn't so drunk anymore.

“Otabek was dismissed last month. He's coming town next Monday.” She muttered before launching herself to Yuri just to hug him for a moment before pulling away, gaze down as she talked. “ _Sorry_. I meant to tell you before.” She looked up and caressed Yuri’s face with her knuckles. “I swear it.”

And just like that, she went back to Sara, pulling her into the dancing floor as she glanced over her shoulder at Yuri.

_He threw up all over the counter as soon as she left._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you've been enjoying this!   
> So, so much love for everyone ! ! x


	3. Misplaced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still unsure of himself, Yuri's life keep changing.   
> He doesn't know where he belongs but destiny will eventualy put him in his place.   
> Literally or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is NO "slow burn" tag for a reason y'all  
> Thanks for giving this a shot xx

Yuri didn’t mean to storm to his cousin’s apartment, but he had never felt so lost and desperate in his whole life.

_He was helpless._

Yuuri was holding him like a mother, as Yuri gripped his shoulders like a lifeline while he breathed heavily in Russian. Victor was behind them trying to comfort both his fiancé and cousin as the morning sun started to rise.

He was asleep, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been exhausted before. He had ran the whole seven streets and an avenue that separated the bar from Victor’s place. He climbed through the fire stairs and crashed down an open window right when Yuuri was barely going to sleep after drafting a whole new choreography before the new season began. Yuri was crying and screaming nonsense until Yuri helped him out of his panic attack before he had another mental breakdown after realizing what had happened. He stood there, silent as tears fell from his face and he pulled his bottom lip with his teeth. Yuri shivered and his cousin showed up with Yuuri’s inhaler to help him breathe again.

Yuri had never taken a beat like that.

Yet Victor and his fiancé were kind with him, helped him get clean and changed as they welcomed him at his bed to hold him as he fell into a death sleep. They didn’t know what had happened but they would never deny Yuri some help, and they waited patiently for him to wake up and talk to them.

_If there was anyone in this world Yuri could count on, it was them._

**-** **♡** **-**

Yuri had been woken up by his cousin as soon as dawn started to break through the sky, eyes glassy and face damp with tears as he screamed through a nightmare.

_It had been so real._

Yuri was there, in his old apartment with Otabek by his side. They had just moved in and an Army truck pulled in front of their place with a written and signed request for Otabek to go to fucking war. He had said _no_ and this senseless, faceless, man just shot him then and there in the chest. Right over the _heart_.

He had never felt so distressed in his whole life.

His heart was aching and so were his hands that had gripped his hair so tightly his scalp hurt now. He screamed against a pillow until Yuuri came to put him into the bathtub to wash him and help him relax. It had helped with the soreness of his muscles and his raw nails that he had been biting into since he woke up. Victor stopped by and gave him a cup of tea along with a fatherly kiss on his forehead. Yuri didn’t even feel like make fun of him.

He heard Yuuri talk about the new productions, his choreography and the set he was preparing for the Summer Season. It was April, the sun out in the noon as it barely sunk into the coastline and the air was just getting chilly. When Yuri hopped out of the bathroom he hoped to feel cold but there was nothing his body actually sensed.

“Otabek is coming back.” Yuri muttered when the night finally fell and a full day since he heard it had passed.

 _Louder_.

Yuri gasped, filling his lungs before repeating it.

“Otabek is coming back!” Was he relieved? Was that a scream of happiness?

Victor, who was cooking dinner, turned around and saw his cousin with huge, perplexed, eyes.

“Yura.” He called him. “What did you say?”

He only muttered it this time.

Yuri didn't know if he was scared, thankful or so fucking angry he would kick a literal hole through the walls. He just _didn't_ know. Yuri didn't know what to do with his heart, with Jean, with himself and the two different marriage proposals that still lingered all over his head as he walked everyday out of bed. He was so confused, so doubtful.

So he started to spill everything, his feelings and anxieties along with his most recent problems with Jean. He told both Yuuri and Victor how he perceived everything on his life, the way it all shaped his uncertainties and his longing for so much more. He told them about Otabek coming, about the last time they saw each other and the way they ended things. He talked about that marriage proposal without saying more than what was enough for them to understand. Yuri spoke up about his truth and his secrets, what he had been hiding and how it was all incredibly close to exploding right on his face.

_And he was unable to do anything._

Yuri would go crazy if he kept thinking like this, _about_ this… but his head wouldn't just give up. His head, heart and soul wanted everything and more and it made him think and think as he spoke and let all out with much thought other than “ _help me_ ”.

“It's going to be okay, just talk to both of them.” Yuuri whispered, voice calm and hands rubbing his friend’s back as he groaned.

“I can't.” He replied, voice already sore as he looked up to his friend’s hurt eyes. Did he felt what Yuri felt? Or was it pity?

Yuri turned around and leant his back on Yuuri’s chest, his friend had his own against the armrest of the couch and Victor sat in front of them with his long legs crossed in silence.

“I can't tell Otabek… I can't make Jean… they're going to _hate_ me!” He sobbed and Yuuri shook his head, pressing him closer to his body as he whispered something in Japanese.

“ _Yura_. It _doesn't have to be like this_ …” Victor whispered in Russian, big hands over his head before they went down to try to undo the balls of his shoulders, stress truly did horror things to Yuri’s body. “We’ll find a way out.”

“I'm so stupid. How can I live like this?” He then cursed out it Russian, a waterfall of insults that almost made Victor blush. “I don't deserve them. _They_ don't deserve this.”

Victor sighed.

“You're getting ahead of yourself, Yuri. Otabek is not even here yet. You still have some days to think everything…” He pulled his cousin, letting him relax against his chest. “Didn't you… _ugh_ , nevermind.”

Yuri lift his green eyes up to him.

“ _Write_ to him?” He asked, eyebrow quirking up to the question.

Victor only nodded.

“I stopped two years ago. Didn't make any good to us…” He mumbled. “I'm stupid. I _know_.”

Yuuri shook his head and Victor looked down to him with something awfully familiar to _compassion_.

It made Yuri _angry_.

“You're not. But we'll help you to find your way out of this, just in case something inside that head of yours has definitely died from dancing so much.” His cousin whispered, causing Yuuri to snort and Yuri to laugh for the first time in what felt like ages.

He smiled, nodding slightly before whispering a quiet thanks to the men holding him when he needed it the most. Right now he could use some rest, he would care for the rest much, much later.

_He had time, still._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuri had once dreamed of getting married at the same chapel his parents had. A little ceremony inside those old, pale yellow walls with his grandfather delivering him to the altar and to the hand of the man he would love the most.

Nicolai Plisetsky was not a stupid man and saw what his grandson wanted for his future without making him explain himself. So Yuri trusted he would do so with much less than a grunt as a complaint of having to walk from the door and down to the aisle. And there was nothing he ever wanted so, _so_ much.

He was counting on a dinner at Yakov’s old manor and a honeymoon in the warm, still beaches of Mexico on the very first days of April where he would sleep beneath the sun for hours after gliding through hot waters and calm waves only to wake up to the voice of his husband calling him for dinner.  And for many, many years he had known whose voice would that be.

Then they would go back to the city and start a life that would go by for years and years until life decided what would be next for him and the love of his life.

_But dreaming was always easy._

Yet it had seemed so plausible, something he would have. It had been there.  

“I will give you the life you deserve, if you let me. Our future will be perfect, just give me time.” He had heard once. “I already do my best in loving you just the way you need to be loved. And I swear I will keep doing it every day of our lives.”

Yuri had said yes a thousand times, every time he had asked. He nodded his head, smiled and kissed him senseless whenever the same question left his lips. He could already see him dressed in a black, fitted suit over his built frame, carrying him out of that chapel into his bike to ride into the sunset they would try to catch right before dinner.

Yuri had been so sure about his future that he didn't need to think about tomorrow because he felt like he had it granted.

Until everything changed, his life and future included. One day, out of nothing, he started to doubt every step he gave.

Until he found Jean, who guided him like he was blind. And Yuri let him.

_That didn’t mean it was what he wanted._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

The weekend went by like water between Yuri's fingers; it didn't slow down no matter how much he wished for it to do so; and just like time his mind has been relentless.

He made his audition, went home with Jean for a couple of nights and managed to run the last monthly errands before crashing once more at Victor's apartment feeling like utter shit. His head kept screaming, his movements were erratic when he was not dancing and every time he started to think about the inevitable his heart picked up such a pace that he couldn’t help but get scared.

 _Everything was scary_.

“Yurio-kun, you don’t have to see him right away.” Yuuri had told him. “I’m pretty sure it can wait.”

Yuri shook his head. Otabek was arriving _tomorrow_.

“Mila is picking him up from the airport with Seung at seven. They're having dinner together and tomorrow they'll throw him a surprise welcome party at Leo's bar.” He squirmed under the bag of frozen gel that rested over his hip bone. “I… I'm supposed to be there, opening the door for him or some shit. I don't even know what I'm _supposed_ to…” He grunted and poked the pad with his blunt nails, the nail polish almost falling off. “ _Fuck this_. I don't know what to do with any of this shit.”

“Have you already told Jean? That Otabek’s coming?” He wondered then as Yuri shook his head before he could even finish the question. “You could start by telling him.”

The mere idea made Yuri shudder.

Yuri had never talked to Jean about Otabek. When they met he was nowhere in sight and when destiny pulled them back together, he was long gone into another life where Yuri had no place on. Yuri never thought it would be fair to lay his heart out to somebody that was trying to love him, talking about a past lover and an engagement that didn’t even seem real whenever he looked at the ring hanging from his throat. He was mean, rude, even. But never cruel. He didn’t have the guts to tell this guy he was dating that he loved somebody else and that he was about to spend the next couple of years waiting for him to come back and get married.

_It wouldn’t have been fair._

So he didn´t.

But Yuri never counted on a one night stand to turn into a full-fledged relationship. To morph into this soul-consuming commitment of adoration and care that went beyond anything they ever thought it could be. One year turned into two and a few months later they were talking about moving together and a marriage, a huge white party and a trip to Europe. Yuri never said anything and Jean just _proceeded_ , asking him to marry when Yuri was already waiting for someone to take him to that little yellow chapel.

 _It wasn´t fair_.

“You shouldn't hide it from him.” Victor came by with a cup of hot tea and an opinion of his own. “He has the right to know, at least. What's happening now and what might come next…”

Yuri snorted.

“You talk like I'm about to _leave_ him…” But then he realized the idea didn't sound so foreign. It was not unknown to Yuri himself.

Victor didn't say anything.

“You…” Yuuri breathed in. “You still love Jean, right?”

Yuri didn't even blink.

“I do!” He sighed before sinking further down into the couch, almost melting against the faux leather. “I do but…”

“Once there's a ‘but’ _anyone_ can tell there's something changing. Something that won't allow that love to ever be the same.”

Yuri almost wanted to cry.

“But I never stopped loving Otabek.” He breathed out; there was no use on pretending any different from that. He just breathed in and let tears fall down once more, thinking over again about his goddamned excuse for turning into such a damned baby.

_He couldn't cry in front of Otabek._

**-** **♡** **-**

Jean dared to speak to Yuri like a lover the second they started hanging out after one single night of too many mistakes. They were not acquaintances  recently involved, there was no platonic past or an idealized friendship that didn't quite work out when there were so many underlying feelings that tried to make it to the surface by pushing the toughest.

It wasn’t like _him_.

So Yuri at least could tell a difference from the start.

And when he found one he just couldn’t stop.

There were the eyes, colorful for once as he stared into them when he first felt Jean inside him. Bright and blue as they kissed for the first time. Then the tattoos, few but bold over his skin. Yuri even though they were meant to make up for the lack of tanning on Jean's skin, but they only stood out in utter contrast, bringing out the cleared color of his cream skin. Yuri could tell from miles away Jean wasn't nothing like _him_ , so he stopped trying to compare them because it wasn't fair for no one, included himself.

There was no care, no contemplation or a stoic face to stare to whenever he felt like it. He lacked so much but had so much he had never seen…

So he grew into Jean and Yuri found him everywhere he turned. There was no use on lying or pretending they didn’t love each other, that they didn’t count on each other.

And Yuri was eternally grateful for that. It was just what he needed and he had it. Then, just like that, one day he saw _him_ on the doorstep of that yellow chapel, instead.

To this day, Yuri does not know why it felt like a nightmare when he woke up.

 _He still thinks of that night_.

**-** **♡** **-**

 

“I can't go, I already have plans for Tuesday.” Yuri barked at Jean, smashing one egg into the counter a little too harshly.

“Babe, _c'mon._ ” He groaned. “I need you there; can't you change your plans this time?”

Yuri only shook his head.

 _Absolutely, the fuck, not_.

“Please. I know you hate to let other people down but this is very important to me. I need you to be there.”

Yuri looked back at him.

 _He still didn’t know_.

“Well this is also important for _me_. I can't change it to get all dressed up to watch you fake smiling for hours and laughing with people you don't even know.” He turned to the stove once more, biting his lip and scrambling the eggs over the veggies just to ignore his boyfriend.

“What's so important about this thing of yours that you can't cancel, _anyway_?” Jean reached for his hand and slapped the spatula out of it to hold Yuri by the wrist.

‘ _I'll see the love of my life for the first time in seven years_ ’. He wanted to say. Yet he didn't even open his mouth.

“ _See_? Then you can come with me, then.”

Lately it went on just this way. The banter, the soft accuses before going into shouts and wide gestures of frustration. Somehow they fell into this passive aggressive vibe after that failed proposal where they just _seek_ for a tiny, little crack to let their frustrations go. They wanted to scream and rip their heads off for relief, looking for a way out of this asphyxiating fog of doubt and ache that never let go of them. So they looked bitterly at each other, barked words and spat heavy sighs anywhere and anytime they could.

_They aimed at each other._

“My friends are counting on me to go!” Yuri exclaimed. “That should be reason _good enough_ for you to understand that I'm _not_ coming with you this time!” He grabbed the spatula back and stirred the eggs once more before turning off the heat.

“But _Chaton_ this is vital for the company. I have to be there…”

“You'll be there. With or without me, everyone will love you anyways.”

Jean took one deep breath in, rubbing his face with one hand before his face moved closer to Yuri’s. The words he said then were tainted with anger.

“They will _talk_. They will wonder why you're not there with me.” His tone was venomous and it would not take a ‘no’ for an answer. “And after the last time they will say a whole lotta more than before. And I can't let _you_ screw _me_ up once more. This is far too important…”

But Yuri was not yielding today.

_He had always been fierce._

“And what about what's important for me?” Yuri said back. “I have my own friends and my own commitments, I said I'd be there early to help sort everything out and I'll be the last one to go because I'll manage the closing. I can't put aside what matters to me for you, I've never done such a thing and I won't start to do so now. I care about you but I am the first person I should care about always. If this is important for me, more than whatever you want me to do, then I'm sorry but I'll do what I want.”

_He had always been strong._

“And you better stop trying to manipulate me.” Yuri pushed him with one single finger. “I said no but it was _you_ who kept me around. You could’ve _dumped_ me.”

Jean took another step forward, putting both of their bodies together and their faces mere millimeters away from each other. It looked too much like their _second_ before kissing.

“You're so fucking _selfish_!” Jean snapped. “I _never_ ask you anything and when I do you still can't do shit for me. And not even after what you put me through?”

“It's not like you've been precisely charming with me, either!” He rubbed his eyes furiously through the strands of hair falling into his face. “You blame everything bad in your life on me since I turned you down and even after it you keep turning to- _fucking_ put all the blame on me!”

“I love you with all I _have_ and you still can't give me a chance at forever? That's what pisses me off!” He pushed Yuri against the corner, forearms on the wall to encage the dancer. “I give you _everything_ I have, I care for you and I even provide with everything you need. And yet you still said _no_ …”

Jean laughed bitterly, Yuri almost spat on his face.

_Had they come to this?_

“It was _my_ decision.” Yuri loaded his pupils with every single ounce of _pain_ and anger he could muster in that moment. “No means _no_. You can’t and you won’t put all this guilt on me just to change that.”

Jean suddenly looked inconsolable.

“Maybe we need a break…” Jean whispered, eyes shut and lips glued to Yuri's forehead right after he pronounced the last word.

“From us. Don't call me.” He pushed JJ away from him before the other man held his hand.

“What? _No_! I meant from _this_ , let's take a vacation and breathe for a second before…” Yuri shook his head.

“You should've left me then and there, when I said no for the first time. Why do you _still_ want me?”

“Because I love you!” Jean hit the wall behind him with his fist, barely creating a dent over it.

 _But his point had been made_.

Yuri shivered, feeling suddenly small and even more heartbroken as he looked up to the punch on the wall.

“Clearly not enough…” he muttered, moving Jean ever so slightly until he stepped aside fully. He was speechless, not even moving as Yuri walked away.

Then he went _off_.

Yuri had never run away faster in his life.

**-** **♡** **-**

 

 “How long has it been?” Victor asked as he braided Yuri's hair.

“It would've been six years in September.” He sighed. “I stopped writing after his twenty-fourth  birthday. He did, too. Almost at the same time and only one letter after.”

“What are you going to tell him?” Yuuri whispered.

“Nothing he doesn't ask.” He took a couple of deep breaths. “Whatever he wants to know, I'll answer. Whatever he _doesn't_ , I won't mention it.”

Both Yuuri and Victor nodded, some sort of secret approval going on.

“All done!” Victor kissed the crown of Yuri's head and helped him up so he could show him the hairdo. Victor had tangled gold strands into a single French braid that went up where the rest of his hair laid on top of his head at a messy bun, perfectly creating some sort of  golden aura whenever he had a bit of lightning behind him.

“Thanks.” Yurio muttered before turning to Yuuri. “You sure I look fine?” He wondered. He was neatly dressed into a tight, simple, velvet dress in plum color with a crew neckline and over the knee black boots with a sturdy heel.

“You look amazing. Stop worrying. The man hasn't seen you in _half_ a decade; you think he will give a _damn_ about how you look?”

“Well he _might_!” Yuri sassed back, biting his lip as he let that sentence sink in.

 _Half a decade_.

A couple more of years and he would’ve gone crazy.   

“How do you feel?”

“Like I'm going to throw up…” His gaze was down but he lifted it up for a mere second. Smile wide and sincere with eyes brighter than a couple of stars, almost closed. “But at the same time I think I haven't been this happy in _a minute_ …”

Yuuri held his hands.

“It will be all _fine_. He's still your best friend, after all. Isn't he?”

He nodded.

“As much as it must pain you… he still is.” He tried to sound _impish_ , fun. And somehow it worked.

Yuuri laughed loudly, wrapping his arms around the lithe frame of his friend.

“Well what didn't change in five years won't change in five minutes, right?” Yuri only nodded, holding Yuuri tighter for just a second.

He was about to see him once more.

And somehow Yuuri couldn’t even fathom the full feeling that had his heart beating so out of control. He couldn’t comprehend the smile and the tingling sensation of excitement and _need_ that buzzed through his veins and came back on his arteries like pure, intense, bliss. He didn’t want to wait anymore, he needed to be there and feel him and hold him and just _see_ him. There wasn’t a thing he wanted more than see him, alive and well, in front of him. And suddenly it was about to happen. He was living a dream, one of those when they just reencountered and picked up from where they  left things and everything was fine again and nothing hurt and Yuri could almost see himself back into the yellow chapel with the _right_ man.

His phone started buzzing.

Stepping out of his daydream, Yuri cleared his throat and pressed his body just for another second against Yuuri.

It was him who gave him the strength he needed and it was tonight when Yuri would use it the most.

“Let me…” Victor handed him the cell phone that rested on the coffee table besides them. Both Yuri’s let go of each other as the Russian one answered the phone after recognizing Mila's photo on the screen.

“ _Baba_ I'm going! We still have an hour what the…”

“ _This_ … _this_ idiot _arrived earlier. He said he wanted to see_ _you and now he_ made me _call for you and… Hell no Otabek I told you I wasn't-!!_ Fuck, _he's threatening me with a bottle of bourbon_.” Her laughter was airy and cheerful. “ _Just get here, okay? Bye_!”

She hung up and Yuri stared at his phone dumbly for two minutes straight until he felt like he needed to breathe.

“Oh God… he…”

“What happened Yura?” Victor asked.

“ _Otabek_ told Mila to _get_ me- _Oh my God_! I have to…”

Grabbing his stuff he bolted out of the apartment without even looking back. He ran into the streets and asked for a cab in the middle of screaming and a thousand noises from the streets. Yet there wasn’t anything as loud as the non-stopping prayer of Otabek’s name that went through his head on a hundred voice chant.

_His heart felt full for once._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wELL we're getting closer to a climax  
> to ~a~ because this story is complex as heck I can promise you that...   
> Let me know what you think down on the comments I would love to see how you feel about this mess. Thanks for those kudos and the bookmarks, you're the reason I keep writing xx


	4. Back Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek has arrived, Yuri is the happiest he had ever been in a while.  
> Will they pick up from where they left it all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y ' a l l , I don't know shit about the army and the air forces but this is FICTION so lets pretend everything written on this chapter is plausible. Love you.  
> Summaries, man. I hate them.  
> Hope you like this xx Thanks to everyone.

Yuri stumbled messily through the doors of the bar, being immediately hit by the smell of beer and food while running past the counter and ignoring the screaming people behind him. He knew Leo was whistling, he knew Guang Hong was laughing and that even some of his high school classmates,  who God knows what they were _doing_ there, tried to catch his attention as he stormed through the building. He also knew all eyes were on him but he couldn't care at all. Yuri rushed all the way to the second floor, breathing heavy from anxiety and heart stammering like a ticking bomb inside his chest.

_He was a countdown._

Five, four, three stairs to go until they became two and he jumped over them with his long legs.

Pushing one last door he searched the whole room until he found Mila snapping a few pictures of Otabek holding Seung and Georgi on a awkward but happy hug. The redhead turned around, lowering her phone and smiling at his friend with a knowing grin; but Yuri was somewhere _entirely_ else. Almost crumbling at the sight of his friend, lover and ex boyfriend and somehow _fiancé_ , mere meters away from him, Yuri felt like he had to step back and return home. He couldn’t face him right now. He-

 _He was stunning_.

“Otabek.” The name fell from his lips like water he could not drink; it dripped cold on his chin and found its way to the bottom of his throat before it felt like drying over his sternum. He needed to say it again. “ _Otabek_.”

Yuri left his stuff on some random table besides him, not caring for it as he only held his cell phone in his hand before diving straight into the booth Otabek was in.

The man hadn't said a thing. But he didn't need to; Yuri read him like an open book and saw both surprise and relief mixed in those dark eyes when he looked away from Mila to dart his eyes where she was glancing.

Walking slowly, Yuri’s strong legs trembled from excitement when he saw him standing up, he stepped into the light from where Otabek was and bit his lip with nervousness. They shared a look and no one could even move. Everything seemed frozen even when there was music and screaming all around them.

Yuri stretched his arm, palm up as an invitation for the other man to meet him there, to hold him now.

“Otabek.” He called him yet again, fear creeping up on his shoulders. Maybe Mila was wrong? Maybe he _didn't_ want to see him after all?

He didn’t answer.

Why wasn't he moving? Why wasn't he doing _anything_?

They stared at each other, dumbfounded into the mere presence of _them_ in that same time and space. It seemed so _unlikely_ and yet there they were… Yuri couldn't hold back any longer.

Taking a deep breath in he furrowed his brow, putting some mean scowl on his face and crossing his arms right over his chest. When he spoke there was no trembling in his voice.

“Listen fucker, I _know_ you’re not deaf so you best hear me out. I was told to be here on time it wasn't _me_ who decided to show up an _hour_ earlier and fuck everything that we had timed so _perf_ -” But Yuri was cut as Beka, as _Otabek_ , took one single step ahead and tackled him into a bone _crushing_ hug, lifting him up from the floor before doing a little spin over his feet.

Yuri bit back a laugh because _what_ _the hell_ he was stronger than he thought but  it felt exactly as he remembered to be held by this one person who, from everyone else in the world, just _knew_ Yuri.

“You _bastard_.” He barked, smile enhancing his features as he gripped him from his biceps, making him stutter at the feel of his muscles clench even tighter around him.  How on Earth did these arms grew so much?

And why was Yuri so absolutely mesmerized by his _body_?

Otabek put him down, his hands not letting go of his waist as he bowed just a few inches to meet his eyes with that dark, powerful gaze. He only smiled slightly, eyes softening with the gesture.  

“Hey Yura.”

 _That was it._ His heart dropped from the shelf he had it on, crashing against the floor and sending a thousand glass beads everywhere inside him. His voice was still warm and low, but now it held a low rumble that sounded a lot like pebbles dragged through a river. His breath was hot and his smile familiar, his skin much darker and his eyes somehow much more tired but it was all well _known_ and it calmed the whole storm raging inside Yuri with such _ease_.

And Yuri had never seen someone look at him, smile at him, _care_ for him like that.

Everything on one single glance, accompanied by no more than two words.

Yuri felt tears stinging his eyes, but he held them back by wrapping all of his limbs over Otabek and squeezing hard like he could not believe he was there, burying his face on his neck. And maybe he didn't _believe_ he was there.

 _How could he_?

But he was, because he held him once more and kissed his head right in front of the bun and stuck his lips to the golden strands. The gesture released both memories and emotions that came to Yuri like an overflowing _ocean_ , threatening to drown him. And it made Yuri squirm on his place as a broken sob parted his lips open. He suddenly felt _too_ much.

“You’re here.” He hiccupped, not even trying to hold back the tears he had said he _wouldn't_ shed in front of Beka. “ _You’re here_.”

“I am.” Otabek replied, voice strained with a little laugh that didn’t truly made it outside him. He seemed so _out_ _of place_ there but somehow it seemed perfectly fitting for him to be with Yuri like this. Like he used to.

 _It was all meant to be_.

“You’re back.” Yuri muttered against his neck, deflating as Otabek kept carrying him on a hug that didn't falter at all. “I can’t believe you… you came back.”

 “I had to. You were here.”

Yuri was fully crying as he clung to Otabek with every pound of strength he had, raising a silent prayer of thanks for… for this man, the one and only he had ever truly belonged to. For his health and well-being. For his simple _presence_. He was back and Yuri-

Yuri’s phone started ringing.

Yuri just _left_ another man.

“ _Fuck_.” Otabek laughed. “Seriously, Yura?”

That name alone made him forget about Jean looking for him, making Yuri look up to Otabek with an apologetic smile as he laughed under his breath.

“Sorry, sorry…” He was about to turn his phone off, now that it went silent, when Jean’s name appeared once more on the screen.

“God, let me just… I’ll take care of…”

Otabek nodded, stretching just slightly enough so his mouth was pressed against Yuri’s forehead.

That tender touch sent thunderbolt down Yuri’s back, the familiar warmth of those chapped lips setting every _corner_ of his soul on fire. He was back and that was proof of it, like nothing had ever changed as he let him go, even when it seemed so obvious he did not want to do that.

In five years he still made Yuri feel like nothing had _ever_ happened.

Yuri turned off his phone.

“Forget it.” Yuri said and held Otabek once more, _literally_ dropping his phone to the floor with a loud thud. That was what its case was for. Otabek now truly and _fully_ laughed

“I thought you wouldn’t make it.” Mila spoke for the first time after Yuri’s entrance, making the men in front of her laugh humbly as they separated briefly. It was almost painful to watch them try to look anywhere else but still they managed, turning to Mila who still had her phone up.

Who _knew_ what she had on that thing by now.

“Cabs are a bitch in this town.” Yurio muttered as he picked up his phone before turning to Otabek. “And don’t even think I’m not mad at you for fucking our plan, dumbass.”

Otabek rolled his eyes before he spoke to Mila.

“I didn’t know any of you plan so…”

“Of course you didn’t, it was a _surprise_ party for a bloody reason.”  Seung-gil spoke for the first time, looking clearly uncomfortable after such a huge demonstration of affection but he did his best to hide it beneath his own seriousness.

“Fuck me, Lee. How was I supposed to know?” His friend only growled at Otabek before turning to Georgi, whispering something to him before they both nodded and got up.

“Well now that you’re here he’s definitely going to ignore us.” Seung snickered, almost cruel. “We’re going now, we have and early day tomorrow at work and Georgi still gets all sad and shit when he sees lovebirds like you.”

“Fuck off Seung.” Yurio replied before turning to Georgi. “Take care, Georgi. See you around.”

He nodded and smiled briefly at him and Otabek.

“Sure Yuri, nice to see you.” He patted Otabek on the back. “Text me if you need help settling, have a good night.”

As they bid their goodbyes, Yuri moved to get his stuff he had thrown away to put his phone into his purse and retreat his wallet. He walked over to Otabek once more and allowed him to grab his hands so he could pull him into his arms, sitting down on the booth where he was before with Yuri now on his lap. They truly didn't care about those sitting around them and they smiled slightly when they were joined by Mila and Sara, the girl Yuri met at the bar that one night.

“I was wondering where you were…” Otabek kissed his ear after Yuri leant into him. “You have no idea of how fucking _happy_ I am now.” His whisper was only heard by Yuri.

He only nodded, he was incredibly happy too. And he _did_ know how he felt.

Seeing him there, feeling him so close, reminded Yuri of so many things that made him feel like crying once more. It had been a lot of time but there were things that remained the same, and maybe it was the best part of all.

He still prayed for Otabek every night, he still heard his laughter whenever a motorcycle passed by on the avenue and he kept writing on his journal about this one man every weekend no matter what. To this day Yuri still loves cats and tight dresses; he still dances and dedicates every step of every choreography to his parents, his grandpa and Otabek. He still writes his name in Cyrillic over everything he can get his hands on and thinks of him before going to sleep.

 _Some things were just that way_.

And now, with him back, he knew they wouldn't change. He knew they wouldn't go away. Whether they stayed together or Yuri drifted apart as a lover or even as a friend. Some things would never change at all.

But he still wanted to know if Otabek still liked black coffee, if he still wrote on his own journal and if he refused vehemently to dance anything that wasn’t some slow rock ballad that Yuri would never truly appreciate. Yuri wanted to know how Otabek felt about horror movies now, and where he kept his driving license. There was this weird, overpowering, sense of idealization that Yuri knew he would have to get rid of because he was about to know this man all over again even when there were things that would never, ever change.

He turned to him, sticking his pointer finger out to trace Otabek’s nose bridge all the way down to his cupid’s bow and his mouth, pulling his lower lip down until they parted open.

“I'm not letting you go now, Yura.” He whispered after that brief moment of silence, breaking the barrier of their unspoken words with a sentence so powerful it made up for its lack of words. Yet Otabek had never needed much to make his point clear.

_Some things would always be the same._

Yuri closed his eyes tightly, allowing himself to believe that. For a second he truly hoped Otabek meant every word he had just said.

He nodded and bit one smile who couldn’t be held back. Yuri laughed.  

_Otabek was still himself._

 

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuri met Otabek on middle school, they were both so much more young and lonely than today and somehow it seemed that was what they _needed_ to find each other.

Both interested on few similar things, their friendship started quickly but developed slowly, barely allowing each other to acknowledge the fact that they had just grown into the other… Years later they were already best friends.

_Yuri thought that would be it._

Otabek had never been the friendly kind and neither had Yuri, so their circle remained pretty small and tight until highscool when they met Seung, Yuuri, Guang Hong, and Leo. The last ones were actually already into a relationship, which surprised everyone as their freshman year finished with the _bang_ of their friends kissing drunkly at Otabek's house, where all they had a sleepover.

“I should've seen it…” Yuri muttered to Otabek as they cleaned up after everyone had left.

“Yeah. Now that I think it, it seems pretty obvious.” He cleared the counter and threw the red cups into a bag.

“How so?” Yuri did the same, looking up to his friend.

“Well… the hugs, the rides back home and the way they shared everything. Even the way they talked. It was all so intimate, _somehow_.” Beka scrunched up his nose. “Also I think I saw them holding hands but I’m not sure.”

Yuri snorted.

“If those were _their_ signals they might as well think the same about us.” Yuri huffed, making Otabek freeze in his step.

Nowadays he was thankful for that shot at _bravery_ , the indirect comment on their own shifting relationship that had moved mountains had been pretty useful. But back then Yuri regretted every single word he had said, _until_ -

“Would it be that bad?” He looked at the blonde, eyes wide with doubt. Yuri shook his head. _No_. No it wouldn't. “Are they wrong?”

Yuri repeated the gesture before speaking.

“Not if you _want_ to.”

It took Otabek _five_ seconds, Yuri swears he _counted_ them, to breathe in as he stared at Yuri's lips before shaking his head and leaning over to kiss him briefly.

Both had _never_ been kissed.

It was over as quickly as it started; making both of them blush furiously as they tried to hide their smiles behind trembling hands. Then they just looked at each other and laughed like little kids before they hugged deeply, deep sighs of relief coming right from the very bottom of their souls.

 _Yuri still hasn’t felt that happy since then_.

**-** **♡** **-**

 

“It was awful, Yura. The first year I couldn't cope with everything going on, I cried almost every night and everyone around me kept saying it was how it all went… you have no idea. I almost dropped out a hundred times.” Otabek bit his lip and took a long swig of his beer. “It was so hard.”

Yuri shook his head.

“You don't have to tell me about it, if you don't _want_ to.” His hand, the one that had been brushing his hair, went down to grip his neck from the back. “We have a lot of time, now.”

_Even if he didn’t know if that was true._

“Hey, we want to know!” Mila said then, and Yuri shot her a mean glare.

Otabek laughed bitterly.

 “It's just… It's fine, because once I grew accustomed to it I even made some friends. There were a lot of people as scared as me but when we realized we had each other… things got better. Your letters helped a lot, too.”

Yuri's eyes went wide.

“I'm… I'm sorry I stopped _sending_ them.” He lowered his head. “I didn't know that.”

Otabek lifted his gaze with a finger under Yuri's chin.

“It's fine Yura. I know it must've been hard for you, too.” He whispered before kissing his forehead. “Whatever happened, it happened. We can't change any of what we did by regretting it. It's fine because it's already done.” Yuri blushed at his words, nodding before speaking once more.

“I just wish you would've come sooner.” He said. “Everything would've been easier.”

Sara giggled and Mila gave her a sympathetic look, almost complicit, too.

“I tried, I really tried.” He sighed and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the table, lighting up one with the lighter next to it.

“Didn't know you smoked.” Yuri commented.

“Does it bother you?” Yuri shook his head to answer Otabek’s question. “Bad habits are most easily picked up at war. Don't worry, I don't do it much, I swear.”

“He doesn’t.” Mila intervened. “I’ve spent the last forty eight hours with him and this is barely the third, I think.”

“Thanks for keeping me in check, Babicheva.” Otabek snorted after the first blow of smoke his lips let go.

“It's fine.” Yuri couldn't keep his eyes off of him, anything he did was pretty alluring. “So, you were saying…”

_He wanted to hear him for forever._

“Ah, of course.” There was a pause where he took a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “I tried but somehow I ended up escalating ranks pretty damn quickly. For my five years of services, no one would've expected me to become a commander so soon. I was in charge of a squad but I spent most of my time on land after my third year.” He chuckled. “People upstairs were not happy, but I was lucky. The only reason I got off sooner was for my continuous service. You know, how I never took a leave to come home in all this time…”

“I'm going to stop you _right there_ before I get mad. You sure as hell didn't step foot in this city for so fucking long…” He shook his head, trying to contain his anger before he snapped. Then Yuri felt Otabek's hands cupping his face and he smiled suddenly, feeling some kind of low warmth spreading all over his chest. “But it doesn't matter. You already said it. It's okay…”

 “Believe me, I learnt to let go of things I can't control. The past is one of them; I didn't change it when it happened so no it's no use to hold onto it.”

“I do wish you would've stopped by at least _once_ …”

Otabek nodded before being able to speak, since Sara interrupted whatever he wanted to say.

 _You would've stopped me from doing so much shit_.

“I’m taking Mila to dance.” She said, clearing her throat and pulling Mila close to her. “See you in a sec.”

Both men just gestured at them as they kept focused on their conversation. Yuri tried his best to keep himself calm before uttering his next words.

 “But you're here now, and that's what matters.” He said, knowing that he had to show him that he had grown too.

Still, time meant nothing. It seemed like all those five years were _crushed_ into five _seconds_ after Yuri stared deeply into Otabek's eyes. He was the same boy he ever loved but somehow his now underlying struggle turned him into some kind of different man, at the same time. His dark eyes still held candor and watched him with utter adoration yet they were worn and seemed to yearn for a rest… but things, and feelings, somehow, were the same.

_If not doubled._

Yuri leant forward, stopping midway as he realized what he wanted to do.

Otabek closed the space between them, lips pressing fully against the others in a matter of seconds. Both melting, letting out a little sigh, searched for the body in front of them and held it as tight as before. The kiss didn't last long but it was strong enough to muster what was yet left unsaid.

_I love you._

“Otabek…” Yuri whispered. “ _Beka_.”

“Not now.” His arms didn't let go of him. “Tell me tomorrow. We will talk about _anything_ you want, anything you need. But tonight let me have this.”

Yuri nodded, he couldn't and he _wouldn't_ deny him a thing.

“Sure. Whatever you want.” He said before being engulfed into another searing kiss, heat bubbling all over his face as he continued smiling. There was a part of him that couldn't shake off the sensation that came with Otabek's arrival, the one that promised comfort and safety, the one that said everything was finally okay.

_Yuri wanted to live on it._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuri was used to break apart from Otabek every now and then, both literally and figuratively.

They became a couple when Otabek was a senior, right at the end of the school year. So they only had a year together before he went off to college. Once that happened they decided to leave things at friendship, allowing both of them to meet and date new people since they were not going to be able to see each other that much. They might've been young but they _kind of knew_ what they were doing. Otabek fumbled around with both boys and girls, and that was precisely how he met Mila until they ended up being best friends, too. She set him up a lot of times, though, as Yuri dated some other boys at high school. That's how he met Yuuri, too. He had come all the way from Japan after winter break and Yuri took pity of him only because he knew what it felt like to be a foreigner, what happened after an impromptu make out session on a stinky locker room was _totally_ a secondary effect.

He claims, to this day, that he _doesn’t_ remember it.

_But oh, he does._

To both of them it felt weird to be in relationships with persons they didn't know much about, with people who entered their lives as nothing more as a flirt with the potential to become much more. It was almost unbearable, at the beginning. The doubt and lack of confidence surely did a little number up on their heads; after all they were just exploring and trying a lot of stuff Yet in time they grew used to it and found a way to develop feelings for other people outside of what they felt for each other.

And that's how it went.

Yuri finished high school with a _certain someone_ starting to creep on his life as he enrolled in the arts conservatory. Otabek was two years into an engineering career and they rebounded sooner than they would've expected. It took them nothing to pick up from where they left. After all they were now a bit more experienced and confident on the area and that allowed them to become better as a couple.

Eventually Otabek dropped out of college for both economic and personal reasons; he didn't feel like he fitted and even if his grades were amazing he just didn't find himself among a classroom. Then his father got sick and the Uni money his parents had saved was directed to his treatment. He had to move uptown to a friend's garage where he started to fix bikes and small cars for a few dollars with what he knew from school and life. Eventually he became more interested into it and learned more in practice than in theory.  

There was so much more to the world than classrooms.  

He and Yuri broke up once more, now that the distance between them was huge they knew it would be hard to _stay_ in a relationship as alive as they had in the past.

 _It was always painful_.

It had been hard, as hard as the first time they took that path were things had to remain platonic. For both it had been almost cruel but their friendship was so, so _worth it_ that they knew they wouldn't have it any other way.

The push and pull was part of them, anyway.

Then Otabek was able to move out of his friend’s garage, his father got better and Yuri's career as a dancer was thriving. They were technically single since they didn't count one night stands as anything but momentary flings, and like that they came back together as soon as they broke up. Beka even managed to get Yuri to move in with him. They did well, Otabek worked at a better workshop near the academy and Yuri was no longer another backup dancer. He was becoming a soloist for his junior year and life seemed just fine.

Yuri _swore_ nothing could ever change.

 _Until Otabek proposed to him_.

**-** **♡** **-**

 

“We don't have to talk about it if you don't want… I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” He told Otabek.

He shook his head.

“I don't mind. My time at war was brief, when I was promoted squad leader I spent more time on land directing my fleet and fixing engines and broken wings. I can't say there's no blood on my hands but at least it's not as much as the one on my crew's planes.”

Yuri nodded, not sure of what to say after that.

“I'm so relieved to see you're doing well. I've heard of terrible… stories about soldiers coming back who are just.” He shivered and shook his head. “Just awful things that happened to some people I know.”

Otabek looked at him with curiosity.

“Mmmh.” He hummed, nodding. “Whatever you've heard is right…” his voice went into a tiny whisper. “I'm not much of the man I used to be, he's still here but not quite as good as I make it seem. But aside from some bad dreams and few scars on my body, I'm fine.” He cupped Yuri's face with his hands once more, but he pressed the expanse of them to his cheeks, making him feel the multiple scars on his palms. “I'm fine.”

Yuri's eyes pierced through him.

“I'm _sure_ you're not.” He said with a snarl he wasn't able to hide. “But I won't bug you about it. Not now.”

Otabek chuckled, finishing off his cigarette before pressing it against the glass of the table.

“You know me so well…” He sighed and kissed the tip of his nose before letting him go. “I'm so grateful you still do.”

“You wish I didn't, _sucker_.” Yuri laughed and drank from his own beer. “How it was? Where did you go?”

“I spent a lot of time in South America in the rainforests. I was instantly assigned to the military cooperation against cartels and drug dealing in some borders. It was beautiful but the things I saw undermine the landscape, to say the least.”

“Maybe one day we could go and create better memories.”

 “I'd love it.” Beka sighed. “Then I was relocated to the Afghan deserts where I started flying. I was registered as a mechanic and that's how I started to get a hold of the machines I was driving. My former squad leader plucked me out of the battalions and allowed me to stay behind at maintenance.”

“How you went from cadet to officer?” Yuri asked, eyes blown out with amazement.

“People liked me, younger soldiers approached me a lot and the higher ranks kind of had a thing for my care and caution. I still went into battlefield and people just followed me… I killed a lot in the beginning, Yura. But I also helped a lot of people. I made the commodore talk to some Marshalls into putting nurses and aid kits on the bigger planes to help anyone when landing. Something about service and hospitality allowed me to lead from land and keep my hands busy with helicopter parts.”

“You're so brave…” Yuri muttered.

_Braver than I’ll ever be._

“I must admit I tried everything to come back in one piece for you…” His smile faltered a little. “I told you I would be back.’

He _did_ say that.

“Was it difficult living there?” He was truly interested, there was something that made Yuri want to know absolutely everything about Otabek and every single day he spent away from him. He just _needed_ to know it all.

“I hated the dessert but Jungles were the _worst_ , Yura. It rained every day and you were never dry, everything wanted to bite you and there was just so much noise in the night!” He quivered and Yuri couldn't help but bite back his grin. “At least the nights in the desert were silent…”

“Weren't they cold?” Yuri wondered.

“Well yes but, _y'know_ , sleeping among ten or so big, muscular man… all bulky and strong underneath those uniforms, pressed _tightly_ inside one _tiny_ tent, sometimes one over the other… I wouldn't complain much.” Yuri laughed out loud, eyes actually crinkling when he did so, before leaning on his shoulder.

“Oh God…” He whispered as he shook his head. “How is this _petite_ , scrawny ballerina boy will _ever_ compete against ten testosterone-filled flight cadets… I'm _doomed_.”

Otabek laughed and finished his beer before tipping his head towards Yuri.

“I've had enough of them. Now I _only_ want you.” Otabek had never been one to play around and he was _definitely_ into talking straight. He never liked the unnecessary crap that came by with words.

Yuri tilted his head to one side.

“Do you still want me? After all this time?” Otabek only smiled. “Would you have me, still?”

“You were on my mind every day I woke up and before I fell asleep. I pushed through every mission with the image of your eyes in my mind and you still _doubt_ I won't have you?” He shook his head. “I think that I've really forgotten how stupid you can be at times.”

Yuri felt _insulted_.

“You piece of _shit_.” He squinted his eyes and Otabek laughed.

“I guess you have forgotten some other things, too.” He didn't meet his eyes when saying this but his voice was profound enough to make Yuri blush as he spoke. “You've been _everything_ on my mind all this time. I still want you. I still love you.”

Yuri blinked hard, trying not to let his tears fall.

“I always will.”

_How come those same words struggled so much to make it past his lips?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone reading, commenting and dropping kudos. I absolutely adore you.  
> Keep that going!  
> I'm back to school tomorrow so updates might slow down but I promise that every chapter will make up for my absence. Wish me luck! xx


	5. At Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past may hurt, the present can look like a dream but those who have always loved each other know time means nothing once they're together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Nightmares, mention and brief discussion of PTSD. Preatty please, please, be carefull!   
> »»—————-　♡　—————-««
> 
> Things get steamy (and I get red)  
> Sorry for the delay!  
> Hope you like this one ♡ , please tell me in the comments if you do.

The first time Yuri had heard a marriage proposal he was nineteen.

And it had scared the living _shit_ out of him.

He had slept with Otabek one night after what he still considers, to this very day, his worst presentation _ever_ and Otabek told him he could stay at his place for the night if he didn’t want to be alone. “His place” was his friend’s garage but it sounded a hell lot better than sleeping alone and cold at his dorm where he could hear the celebrations from everyone else outside.

So he had said yes.

But Otabek woke him up in the middle of the night, way past two am, with a kiss on his shoulder blades to pull him in his arms outside of his barely built bed.

Yuri was on his briefs, clutching to his blanket like a lifeline when Otabek sat him down on the freshly cut grass when he told him to look up to the stars.

_The sky was dark._

Like blue, deep and rich ink, is seemed like hell was just above them instead of heaven. The stars were turned off, absent on the black expanse of the sky that needed them so much because it looked _dead_ without them. But Yuri could perfectly see Otabek in front of the crescent moon that casted its own, different and iridescent, light on his back. He was so handsome and so tranquil it was like a dream to see him with such clarity. The air was cold and fresh, the last traces of summer lingering like dust flecks that would never go away and it felt clean in their lungs, like it usually wouldn’t, and on their skin with those whispers of cars passing by a few blocks away on the avenue. Otabek still had his hand on Yuri’s and they still have not said a thing since they got out. Otabek was smiling and Yuri found himself kissing him even when he said he was _not_ going to do anything with him that particular night.

 _Yet now he wanted everything_.

“Yura.” He whispered, pressing his lips to his forehead with such candor that it felt _weakening_ to be touched in that manner. “Marry me.”

Yuri froze.

And Otabek, like always, _felt it_.

 _He just knew_.

“Not now.” He completed. “Someday, when we’re ready. Whenever you want to.”

Any kind of fear that had started creeping up on Yuri’s spine suddenly died on it’s track. He felt himself breathing once more to a steady pace even when seconds ago he was choking. The cold didn’t cut his skin anymore and the light wasn’t even blinding him when Yuri _swore_ it was before. He heard those words falling like glass beads falling into marble, ripping the silence apart with a million noises that created a symphony of calm and reassurance. Yuri’s muscles unclenched themselves as he look up to Otabek and found him waiting, patiently as ever, with that same loving expression on each and every one of his features.

“Even if it’s in ten years?” Yuri wondered, heart full of wonder at the _possibility_ of spending his whole life with this man.

“Even if it’s in _fifty_.” Otabek bowed and kissed his eyelids, holding him closer until Yuri was flush against his body and every past sign of fear and doubt had evaporated into thin air.

The sky might’ve been dead and still Yuri had never been so _alive._

Yuri suddenly fell warm all over, he was calm and smiling and all his cares and worries long forgotten. The fiasco of that day’s recital, his Grandpa’s health, his upcoming midterms and the simple possibility of a hundred tomorrows to come all burned to ashes into the ground that painted the soil beneath his feet black and thickened it with its bitterness and stress; but in Otabek’s arms he couldn’t care. He was not alone, he had never been and now he had _just_ been promised a future where nothing would hurt and everything would be safe. Even if it needed a couple decades, there was a day in his further life to look forward to for _peace_.

“Yuri.” Otabek spoke once more, whispering only to his ear. “Would you marry me?”

He slipped a very simple gold band on his ring finger on his left hang. It was silent and discrete when he did so, barely letting the piece of jewelry rest over his knuckle before pressing his hand tightly as he looked to him with the question still lingering on his eyes.

It had been so simple, Yuri _believed_ it would always be that simple.

And he said yes.

“Yes.” He muttered, kissing him once more and letting the blanket fall to his feet.

 _He was just so reckless_.

Yuri didn’t care he was on some uptight neighborhood naked at three in the morning, he didn’t care that he had performed horribly yesterday or that he had just _agreed_ to marry his best friend in some foreseeable future.

He didn’t care about a thing because he was so infuriatingly _happy_ nothing made sense in his head besides Otabek.

_Otabek. Otabek. Otabek._

“I love you.” He said.

Otabek.

_And Yuri had thought life would always be this kind._

 

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuri's hands were _everywhere_ over Otabek. They roamed through every inch of skin as he pressed his nails into the muscle. Otabek had always been big, broad shoulders and a wide back with a muscled up frame… But this? The massive, _massive_ arms and the ripped flesh beneath his shirt? The huge body, towering over him on the wall with all that living flesh in front of Yuri? It was all _new_. It was all too much and Yuri couldn't even get enough of it. He was getting to know Otabek once more and the mere idea of it was turning him _high_.

He choked on his own breath trying to deepen the kiss when he felt Otabek's hands grip tightly at his navel with his fingers pressing into the skin like he was afraid Yuri would go. He had pinned him into some wall outside the bar and now he entrained the dancer with his mouth all over his face. His lips traced lines from his lips to his temples and back to his nose. They grazed slightly the expanse of his cheekbones and bit the jaw line and the earlobe before liking stripes through his neck. Beka pecked his eyelids and blew a raspberry on his brow bone when Yuri giggled at the smile he felt through his own lips.

“I've missed you.” Otabek whispered, hands too tangled up on Yuri's hair now. “ _I've missed you_. I've missed you so _fucking_ much.”

Yuri couldn't speak, couldn't move. He was limp to Otabek's hands and his grip, he couldn't let go and he didn't want to move an inch from where he was.

Otabek moved his lips to Yuri's chest, pulling down the collar of his cotton dress to kiss the expanse of his skin and nip at his collarbones. Otabek moaned when he felt the furious heat coming from where Yuri's heart beat and moved his hands to his waist and hips, encaging him between his arms to press his whole body against his chest.

“You grew so much…” Yuri muttered, blushed from his own words but unable to contain them when he felt how _little_ he was compared to him. “ _How_?”

_It had never been like this._

Otabek chuckled.

“You haven't changed a thing, Yura.” He smiled through their kisses, not giving an answer.

Yuri was totally blissed, the touch of Otabek was the one he knew and remembered. It was what he loved and for some miracle up it heaven it seemed like Otabek didn't forget anything about how Yuri liked to be held and touched. They were together; pressed against each other and their bodies just remembered it all. Both knew where they _were_ and both needed to stay there just to feel something that they have missed beyond words and actions for the last five years. It had been so much time without the other that now they _couldn't_ let go without the fear of disappearing into thin air.

Yuri didn't want to know about anywhere else, about anything else and he didn't want to even _think_ about anyone else. He knew what he was doing, he knew he was going to hurt someone, probably everyone, but for once in his life he _didn't_ care. He knew exactly what was he doing, what was _happening_. Yuri was aware of it and he didn't stop it. He wasn't going to have it for himself, this time.

He deserved it.

Yuri was so unbelievably happy… he never wanted anything _else_ than this.

“We don't have to do this right now.” Otabek whispered. “I- I can wait.”

“We've waited long enough.” Yuri bit Otabek's lip and caressed his neck with his hands. “If you want it, I want it…”

The soldier just laughed between their kiss.

“My place is full of boxes… I don't even have a bed, it's a fucking mattress.”

Yuri giggled and broke away from him just to look up to this dark orbs.

“I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Otabek looked like he was _eighteen_ all over again.

“Let's go.” He said, grabbing his hand to kiss Yuri’s knuckles for a second before turning around, pulling him along.

_If Otabek was any different, Yuri couldn’t really tell right then._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

The first time Yuri _ever_ felt he loved Otabek was when he was around 18. Otabek, being 20, had bought his first motorcycle on his own and for himself. The kid had been ecstatic, and even if he _didn’t_ really know how to properly drive it he dared to walk all the way from the workshop he got it from to Yuri’s student residence. The school year had just begun, Yuri had excelled on his first midterms and he had a weekend off from both practice and studying, so his excitement had been also undeniable when Otabek pulled up at the door and screamed out for Yuri’s name.

He had ran so fast he crashed against a couple of sophomores who were ogling Otabek at the door and they almost _hissed_ at Yuri when he flew by to the arms of his, _then_ , best friend.

“You’re so fucking stupid. What are you going to do with this?” He spat, walking around it.

Otabek laughed so sweetly Yuri roughly shut up.

“Once I learn how to ride it, I’m taking you on a road trip on it, _Kitten_.”

Yuri blushed awfully.

“Don’t call me that!” Then he laughed, unable to contain it. “Like hell I’m getting anywhere near that death machine.”

“Just you wait and you will never want to get off of it.” He winked and Yuri huffed at him before taking him by the hand to drag Otabek to his room. The place was minuscule, nothing but a bed and a desk with the tiniest mini fridge and a closet, a drying rack and a trunk in front of his bed. The bathrooms were shared down the hall and everyone lived on that minimum space for more than four years. Yet, with Otabek squirming around to _not_ kick something Yuri had never found it any more perfect than it had been then and there.

They lied on his bed, listening to Otabek’s records that he had gifted Yuri when moving out of his house and talking for hours until curfew hit them in the face and Otabek had to leave.

He, being the awfully _hasty_ kid he had been in the past, decided to _drive_ (poorly) the bike to the garage he was living in.

Yet he didn’t count on the fucking drunk girl driving at midnight from the college district that never respected the streetlights and sent Otabek flying to some other car coming down the road. Bike long forgotten on the asphalt, Otabek had unknowingly three broken ribs, a perforated lung and a sprained leg. Multiple bruises and a harsh cut from where the glass of the girl’s car flew to his face when colliding, he laid on the hood of some truck.

Yuri had never loved Otabek any more than when he actually woke up, two days later, in a stretcher at the State Hospital with so many bandages Yuri swore he looked like a mummy.

Yuri had never loved Otabek more when he smiled apologetically and actually tried to say sorry at his friend.

 _At least he was talking once more_.

It had been horrible, Otabek hadn’t been near to death, thank _heavens_ , but the image of his body almost lifeless was one Yuri would never shake away from his head. He had known worry and hurt like he hadn’t before. He was scared beyond himself and he had never prayed any harder in his life for his best friend to open his eyes just one more time. Yuri learnt to appreciate him, care for him and actually thank his _presence_ in his life. He hated to admit it, but he had taken Otabek for _granted_ and now that he had been _so close_ to lose him he bowed to never do such a horrible thing ever again. He knew that the first thing he would do when he woke up would be to thank him for everything he ever did for them and for Yuri himself.

But he didn’t.

_He couldn’t._

Yuri had never loved Otabek more when he heard the Cardiac monitor going _ballistic_ when he kissed him in the mouth, never minding the dryness of his lips or the dead breath he had.

Yuri had never loved Otabek more when he walked out of the hospital in a pair of crutches, smiling dumbly at her mother’s worry before letting Yuri guide him into his grandpa’s car.

He thought of telling Otabek how he felt. Yuri wanted to let him now, whispering it on a hug so no one could hear them even if everyone had before. But this had to be different, this time it wouldn’t be _platonic_ , it wouldn’t be brotherly.

_The problem was that he had to wait._

Yuri had never loved Otabek more when the one and only _Nikolai_ Plisetsky scolded his best friend much harsher than his own mother had and Otabek couldn’t do anything more than muttering a thousand apologies in Russian before hugging the man almost to death.

Yuri knows his _dedka_ had never loved Otabek any more than he did then.

It might _also_ have been the day he knew there was no other person he would ever want to spend his life with.

Otabek didn’t know it, but Yuri had said yes to him so much time before he ever asked.

 _He would always say yes_.

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuri walked through Otabek's apartment with a little smile plastered on his face. How he actually got their _old_ apartment back he _didn't_ know and even if it looked empty and cold it still held some kind of warmth that only memories could provide. He felt _moved_.

And yes, Otabek was right, everything was still boxed up and the bed was non-existent. It consisted on the mattress, two fluff pillows and a thick wool blanket and a sheer sheet. The rest on the room was irrelevant to him, now that Otabek came back from the kitchen with no shirt on and a cold glass of water between his hands.

“Here.” He offered him the glass. “Sorry I don't have anything else to offer you.”

Yuri shook his head and took the glass, drinking its content immediately.

“This is perfect. Thank you.” He whispered.

Otabek nodded and sat down on his mattress, leaning half of his upper back on the wall as the rest of his body lied down. He looked almost hazy like that, as if he was still some kind of illusion.

And maybe he _was_.

_Somehow._

The room they were in, the apartment and even the building were from another time so long ago it was almost forgotten between broken hearts and shed tears. It was from an era were Yuri didn't know _pain_ and Otabek didn't know _war_.

 _It was from a whole different life_.

Yuri bit his lip, putting the glass next to some boxes and knelt without breaking eye contact with Otabek as he undid the zipper of his long boots. It was almost a tortuous process in which he took more than enough time to take both off. His breathing was as heavy as Otabek's who couldn't look away, either, and his own chest seemed to palpitate visibly with the anxious beating of his heart.

He had _truly_ changed.

Otabek’s skin was lighter than the rest of his body but yet more tanned than Yuri remembered and it was littered with scars and spots, even some stretch marks on his ribs that were definitely there from his last growth spurt at the Air Forces. Yet it wasn’t only that.

It was the tattoos.

He had what Yuri thought it would be his squad’s coat of arms on his forearm, right under the juncture of his elbow. Then a compass on his chest, big on his right side with arrows below it and a pair of twigs on each side of it. They were dark and bold, except for the bright, red rose that was traversed by a dagger. Then he had something written in Kazakh right over the waistline of his jeans, something that went further down until the rough fabric covered it.

He was a _sight_.

And that was precisely the reason why Yuri was simply unable of turning any other way but his’.

“That color looks beautiful on you.” Otabek whispered as Yuri lifted the Hem of the dresses to slowly turn it upwards over his body. Also agonizingly slow.

“Thank you.” He replied before throwing it over his head, letting it land haphazardly at the wooden floor.

Now he was partially naked but for the stockings and his briefs he wore underneath his outfit.

His ring stood proudly over his chest, hanging from the gold chain.

Otabek saw it, hanging loose from Yuri’s elegant neck on its very thin and fragile-looking strand. It took him a second to take the picture in.

“I’ve been wondering where it was.” He admitted, watching Yuri’s blush creep from his chest all the way to his forehead.  

“It’s always here.” He whispered as he looked down, flexing his feet over the wooden floor.

Outside the city was alive and roaring, with cars buzzing through the city and creating a chaos of sounds that only some days sounded like music. It was still warm and the night barely beginning, people screaming and laughing could be heard far, far away on the distance and Yuri wondered why they ever lived on such a loud neighborhood.

But he didn’t have time to wonder, not now.

He looked up to Otabek.

“Come here…” He said breathlessly before Yuri could even reach for the seam of his undergarments. “ _Please_.” He added with a bit of desperation.

Yuri chuckled; nodding as he finally undid his hairdo in one swift motion and walked over to Otabek.

He knew what he was doing.

_Yuri had never wanted anything else so badly._

Otabek parted his lips, breathing in before speaking. The look on his face was unreadable.

“I came out of service two months ago but I stayed with my parents. My dad's getting all sick again and mom didn't want me there. Said I was just worrying her twice. That I shouldn't be there, that dad was going to get better.” He sighed as Yuri sat down on his lap, legs straddling his hips. “I had told myself that I was going to _wait_ until I came for you. Until I came back. But mom _insisted_ …”

Yuri kind of chuckled as his hands reached for Otabek's shoulders, pressing his thumbs against the expanse of his muscles as if he tried to soothe some kind of pain.

“So _Aliya_ made you come get me?”

Otabek actually laughed, taking his own hands to Yuri's to hold them tightly.

“No.” He shook his head before taking each hand to his lips to kiss it tenderly, for a couple of seconds, before the other one. “She didn't. Seeing you, being right here with you once more was the _only_ thing I could think of as soon as I got my dismissal. Touching you was at the top of my head for months before anything else. Her words were nothing but an excuse, _then_ … but I thought you might not want me anymore.”

Yuri shook his head abruptly, looking at him with confusion.

“ _Don't_ say that.” His voice cracked. “How could you…?”

“I thought that you might've had somebody else now. Why _wouldn't_ you? You're so beautiful and strong and so talented and smart. I thought that after all this time I had lost you. After all I took so much more time than I had _said_ I would. Of course you would've forgotten me.”

“Never.” Yuri answered, not wanting to hear anything else. “Otabek. I…”

“Wait.” His voice was prayerfully, still. “I thought of all that and it was _killing_ me. It killed me to think of you with someone else, with anyone who wouldn't love you like _I_ would. Who wouldn't know you and understand you like I do. So I said to myself: _fuck it_. If he doesn't want me I wanna hear it from his own lips.”

“I want you.” Yuri was now hugging Otabek from the waist, face buried on his chest as he spoke.

“If he has anybody _else_ , I'm going to rip him off of their hands. I'm having him back.” He was grunting and Yuri felt every word reverberating from his forehead straight to his heart. “If, and only if, _you_ told me you didn't want me. That you were happy with _anyone_ you were, that you didn't love me…”

“I love you!” Yuri was screaming now.

 “Only _then_ I would've let you go. I would've _only_ been your best friend because God knows I can't stay away from you. But if that was as much as I would get then I would have it.” Yuri felt Otabek's chest rising erratically and he wondered if he was crying, too. “But, _perhaps_ , since I just can't bear the thought of you with anyone else, I would've gone back to the army. To the war.”

“You're not going back there ever.” Yuri lifted his face and held Otabek's so close to him he could actually see every speck of color on his eyes, even on the poorly lighted room. They were not so dark now having them up close. Not so strange now having him on his own. He was, in fact, crying. “ _Ever_.”

_He was not letting go of Otabek._

Maybe it was the years they hadn't seen each other, or the ones they have _known_ each other. Yet all of them, the entire sum of every single one they've spent on this Earth, seemed crushed by the overpowering weight of something entirely incomprehensible that made them coincide on that moment in that mattress. On that day in that planet. On this _life_.

And none of them wanted to let all of that go to waste.

Otabek laughed with his lips directly to Yuri's chest, tongue instantly finding his nipple and circling it until it was red and wet. Yuri immediately arched his back to the point where it almost sounded like it would break in two, breathy moan escaping from his lips as his golden hair fell down on his back to cover it completely. He breathed in pants as Otabek held him tighter and tighter until his arms were completely around his hips on an attempted to feel all of him. He was now busy with the other nipple and his tears seemed to stop long ago.

“ _Beka_ …” He whispered, eyes close as his cheeks kept getting wet with every blink.

“I love you too, Yura.” Was the only answer he got back before Otabek's lips went up to his own, pressing them on a bruising kiss as their tongues met with frenzy.

From there, it all went on a downfall.

_It was unstoppable, now._

Yuri's hands were everywhere as Otabek's didn't seem able to let go of his midriff. He clung to Yuri like dear life and his lips couldn't drop anywhere off of his face. Yet none could complain.

From Otabek's lap Yuri was rocking so slightly it would be almost impossible to distinguish any movement but the soldier, from where he was, felt every single shift and turn the dancer would give at his hips. He was sliding on the mattress and soon he was fully down, resting all of his body at the surface as Yuri bent over to keep kissing him. His waist starting to pick up its pace, creating a faster rhythm and a harsher friction between their centers.

Yuri guided Otabek's hands to the seam of his stockings as he, unwillingly, stood up over him. Otabek's arms reached long enough through his legs and intuitively pulled down the clothing piece until it was nothing but a puddle of black, stretchy, fabric on the bed.

“Come back baby.” He muttered as Yuri knelt slowly down, going back to his place at Otabek's lap.

“You have no idea.” Every word was punctuated with a sensual roll of hips, once he was down on him once more. “How much I've missed you.”

Otabek gave him a little smile.

“Maybe I _do_ …” Otabek suddenly gripped Yuri tightly from the hips, turning him around to pin his lithe frame to the mattress. Yuri almost yelped but instead he gave out a little surprised laugh, either from amazement at the gesture or form pure, _unraveled_ , happiness.

Now it was Otabek who became simply _torturing_ , sliding from Yuri's body like that with what resembled to an animalistic grace as he kissed and bit the soft, milky skin with groans and one or two moans. Yuri was no better, squirming and letting out all kind of pleased sounds as Otabek simply marked him all over the place, around the ring.

And he didn't care that his classmates would see him, that his choreographer would scold him or that _anyone_ would ask.

He didn't care. He wanted to feel like he had in the past.

_He wanted to feel alive._

“What is this?” Otabek wondered at the small ink mark on Yuri's hipbone. A tattoo of a Cyrillic word engraved on his flesh.

“ _Sil'nyy_ …” Yuri whispered, having a hickey sucked right next to it as he talked.

“Fitting.” He muttered after kissing the faint bruise. “I love it.”

“I like yours more…” Yuri replied, making Otabek smile at his navel while he finally pushed down all of his briefs.

Yuri stood proud I'm front of Otabek and he didn't wait a second before tasting his length with short laps of his tongue that had Yuuri quaking in seconds. All his pent up frustrations and needs being suddenly melted away by Otabek's hot mouth that didn't seem to falter at any point. He was sucking slightly the head as he went down and lower, taking all of Yuri with such a patience that it seemed he wanted to make Yuri last for hours. And he would _let_ him.

But Otabek had different plans; he took all of Yuri on his mouth and lapped the sides with a doubtful tongue before fully sucking all of him. Yuri was panting and trying really hard to not look anywhere down his chest. Rising off of his body after one last lick, Otabek reached for the small drugstore bag where they bought lube hurriedly after hopping off of the bar. Yuri had actually laughed when Otabek, all flushed, admitted he _didn't_ have any and Yuri ended up pushing him at a pharmacy counter to get one.

Now it was not _so_ funny.

“You still want this?” Yuri nodded furiously, unbuckling his pants with urgency to shove them into the floor. Now he was only in briefs. “Tell me.”

“I want this. Please, I need this.”

Popping open the cap, Otabek bent to Kiss Yuri's neck as he lubed up a finger quickly to insert it on Yuri, who took it immediately in and groaned at the stretch.

Otabek, knelt on the mattress, partially chuckled and took his lips higher until they were pressed at Yuri's. They sighed at the action and Yuri moaned when he felt a second finger circling his entrance, fueling his body, before he was knuckle-deep.

Otabek's kisses became _sloppy_ , messier and wetter as he fingered Yuri with care. He took his time and Yuri appreciated it, but he started to feel like he was burning inside-out and there was only one way of handling the fire.

Yuri shivered when Otabek was preparing him with four full fingers, all inside him to the knuckles as he started to muffle every single scream and sound he was mustering.

“Beka… _Beka_.” He moaned, feeling every syllable heavy on his tongue when he sobbed out.

“Almost done, Yura. Hold on.” He answered a pleading tone on his own.

Yuri shook his head vigorously.

“No. _Now_ , I'm ready.” He swore. “ _Otabek_ , please.”

He cooed at the younger, muffling his distressed sounds with low grumbles of his voice as he retreated his fingers. Along with lube, they had bought a strip of condoms that Otabek took to place one over him, boxers thrown aside as Yuri took him with one hand and pumped his length for several moments as he stared into Otabek's eyes.

Yuri couldn't shake away the feeling of miracle that was threatening to overthrow his body into a breakdown. Everything was almost _surreal_ and if it wasn't for the raging pleasure he felt, he would probably think this was _another_ dream. But the gleam on Otabek's stare, his warm hands and his slurred breath said otherwise. He was truly being watched, held and touched out of sheer _love_. This was happening and it made Yuuri absurdly happy. He was _blessed_ to feel this, to love this when long ago he thought _nothing_ like it would ever happen again.

He never wanted this to end.

Yuri reached for him, also kneeling, and hugged him for a brief second. He found another tattoo, a skull surrounded by a wreath of black, dark flowers over his calf that rested on his skin like it was a talisman. It also felt like it was _looking_ at Yuri, judging him.

“Tell me you love me.” Otabek asked, pulling him out of his hallucination and down on the mattress as he sat on his original position, back propped on the wall as Yuri followed him, finding his place at his round, once more. He took Otabek and guided him towards his dripping entrance without thinking of anything but what he was feeling.

 _And he felt love._  

“I do.” He sunk on him slowly, until they were pressed against each other once more. “I love you.”

Otabek quaked before releasing a heavy breath, burying his face on Yuri's chest as he started rocking his hips slightly, rolling his waist. Yuri bounced slightly and moaned loudly with Otabek's lips all over his shoulders, biting his collarbones and licking his nipples once more. His hips soon caught up the rhythm they had set and Otabek pounded into him with care. Yuri held onto him by the neck and his legs surrounded his waist while he rode Otabek into bliss. He had no intentions of going any faster but Otabek started to get _restless_ and needy, vocalizing his own desire with harsh grunts and moans of his own as he attempted to go into Yuri harder. And he allowed him.

Otabek caught Yuri's lips on his own and his hands reached for his hair, grabbing a couple of fistfuls as their pace became relentless. It was faster than before and it had Yuri crying big tears of pleasure when he took his own length in his hand, fisting with such a peace that Yuri was almost unable to keep his own movements going.  Otabek’s back was domed, taut on tension and effort as he thrust harshly.

Yuri still held onto Otabek and he released his hair to grope his round ass to nudge him, encouraging his movements as his thumb rolled over the head of his length. Yuri cried out loud and kissed Otabek once more before letting go of himself.

“I've missed you.” He said, looking with a longing in his eyes so powerful it almost drowned the hazy lust in them. “I've _missed_ you.” He repeated, grinding down on Otabek to pull a waterfall of moans out of his mouth.

He only nodded, eyes shut with an unspoken understanding as he pulled Yuri closer even if it seemed impossible now for them to be any more together.

“I know. Me too.” He said, biting down on Yuri's shoulder. “I _missed_ you too.”

Yuri shook over Otabek's lap, feeling the first wave of pleasure pushing him off of his edge.

“ _Beka_. More.” He whispered against the undercut of Otabek's hair. “ _More_ … More.”

He took Yuri by his thighs, holding him to guide him through each one of his plunges, aiming directly for his G spot with each one of them as he carried him with his forearms, hands over his lower back. Yuri jumped over them and doubled up the feeling, clenching Otabek inside him every time he hit the other one’ thighs.

The ring on Yuri’s chest felt _heavy_ and for the first time it was for _all_ the good reasons.

“I'm not going to last.” Otabek announced with a deep huff as Yuuri ground on him.

“It's okay. Me neither.”

And together they moved faster, harder, pursuing their climaxes with an urgency that wasn't there all of the sudden, but that remained under their need of connection rather than release. Now they wanted to end together to finish all this up and feel _stated_ for the first time in what felt like forever. They hurried themselves and kissed roughly as their movements turned erratic and much needier than before. They were _chaotic_ , careless and it started to show on the way they held onto the other one as their orgasms suddenly crashed over them and shattered all of their self control. Otabek came first, spilling all of himself inside Yuri with an exaggerated shudder that made him howl onto Yuri's cheek while he emptied his load between those squeezing cheeks that seemed to milk him. Then Yuri spurted on his stomach as Otabek flicked his wrist seconds before he finally got off from his high, giving Yuri what he needed so badly that he _screamed_ his name for what seemed forever until he rested limp against his body.

Otabek couldn't help but huff a little laugh as he laid Yuri down beside him.

“Don't _go_.” He dragged the ‘o’ before a shiver ran down his spine.

“I'll clean us up.” Otabek said before he bent worriedly over him. “Are you cold?”

“Just a little. I'll be fine when you're here.”

He heard Otabek say something but he didn't understand what it was so he just nodded and felt the weight off of the mattress.

Yuri felt actually cold and a part of him broke when he remembered it was what he was _used_ to. He didn't want to feel alone like that and it took all of him to actually convince himself that Otabek was coming back.

_Why was he so emotional?_

Sex didn't mean much to him, not even when it was with someone he loved and cared for. His first time had been with some drunken boy at a frat Party he snuck in on his senior highscool year and since then he just _considered_ it to be a need to satisfy. It was great when he first slept with Otabek for they cared and loved each other truly and after that it was amazing to remember this was not so _senseless_ fuck but yet it wasn't such a _big_ deal.

And with _Jean_ …

“I'm sorry I took so long. I didn't know where I left the clean towels…” Otabek came back, warm smile and all but a shining glow that came with all of his briefly dressed glory.  

Yuri didn't need to think about any of that right now, even if his heart ached and tears filled his eyes. He didn't want to know anything that wasn't this one man cleaning all of his mess up.

“I didn’t even realize how long you were gone.” He muttered when he felt Otabek pressing the damp towel to his body.

Otabek chuckled, gleefully.

“I also got some sheets to actually make a bed.” He mumbled after. “Well, sort of.”

Yuri laughed, too.

For someone who looked so _badass_ he was actually very, very adorable.

After that they made the bed, changing the sheets and discarding their worn clothes onto some boxes besides them. Otabek grabbed the wool blanked and placed it over Yuri as he went to refill his glass of water. Then they accommodated on their bed, finding their sides like it was nothing and settling down with a few squirms before they got to whisper senseless Russian to lure the other into their dreams.

Even if all _this_ seemed like one.

Yuri had to remember where he was, who laid besides him and hugged him until they fell asleep well into the morning.

_Yuri had to remember who he loved the most._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a ride.  
> (No pun intended)  
> I'm so humbled by the few comments that have appeared here and there, I swear I'm super thankful for them. And for everyone just reading and sending their kudos, too! Though you can come over I promise I won't bite (?)  
> Eh ; thanks for everything ! ! ♡ ♡


	6. Not The One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When stars orbit each other closely, they spiral inward as time passes and makes them meet. Once they merge, what may come next is still unknown to those who remain in the ground.   
> Few are the ones who dare to fly into this catastrophe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what's up with that summary? Or this whole thing?   
> Hey I should also warn you, I don't give a shit about time and I totally show that in this thing. We're at five thousand miles per hour with the narrative and I have no intentions of slowing down. So buckle up! ೕ(•̀ᴗ•́)  
> Thanks for reading! ♡ And the patience!! ♡ ♡ Much, much love. ♡ Enjoy, please.

Yuri once wanted to wait until he was a professional dancer to marry Otabek. A couple of years in tour would be nice, too.

_Yet he didn’t know much._

Otabek had initially agreed since he spent every penny he had saved up since he dropped out of college to open his own workshop. Nikolai, Yuri's grandfather, even loaned him the missing part of the cash to get the garage going and he knew his first priority was to solve the debt he had with the man. So time was there and they had plenty of things to do as they waited to get married.

They weren’t in a rush, after all.

It was hard, even with Yuri on a scholarship and the money from several prizes he kept winning the due to his excellence at classical dancing they _still_ struggled. If they were together at least they could rely on each other but if they took time apart, their respective partners never truly _understood_ the depth of their trouble. Now all they had was each other and sometimes it seemed almost asphyxiating. The need for fresh air was overpowering, at sometimes.  

But it wasn't in them to _ever_ give up.

_They kept trying everything._

Yuri applied constantly for competitions and traveled quite some to get money to provide for him and his partner as Otabek’s workshop barely started to catch its rhythm.  It was tough since he was amazing but not perfect and the second or third place prices were never as good as the first and not only left him feeling down but also worried him since it meant a couple of bucks behind what he estimated when he paid for those groceries with his credit card or when he asked Yuuri to lend him some to buy a new pair of _pointe_ shoes.

Yet he always made it.

_They always made it._

It was like walking on a tightrope together.

Constantly losing balance, unsure and doubting themselves, it all went down to their own pace and rhythm at life. They had their days counted and they didn’t even know it, so they walked hand in hand as they tried to put together the pieces of everything that seemed to be off. Never stopping, Yuri and Otabek risked everything to be just together. No matter how young and reckless, they wanted it. And as headstrong and complicated it seemed, they kept going on their little act just to see if they could have it all. The pursue of their dreams was an adventure, a risky one, but they were so sure of it that they were both brave enough to try it.

Balancing with the money, their living and loving, sometimes Yuri staying on his dorm and Otabek not coming back from the workshop until late night. It was the long rehearsals and the expensive tools, the sleepless nights and the restless days… It was everything that built a great unknown that, at least, belonged to them. An universe to call their own.

As tough as it was, they wouldn´t have it any other way.

 _They could do it_.

It wasn't perfect but it was _worth_ it. They had and loved each other and it was more than enough to bear every day of struggle. They did what they wanted, practicing what they adored and had each other at the end of the day when they needed themselves the most. Tired or pissed off, stressed or relieved, they always counted on the other. _It was worth it._

_Until, one day, Otabek suddenly didn't think so._

**-** **♡** **-**

It seemed like there would be _no_ morning.

Yuri woke up dripping in cold sweat, clutched to Otabek's chest so strongly he felt there was no air in his lungs. There were a thousand noises outside on the street, still, but the noises coming from Otabek drowned every single one of them.

He was tense, muttering and squirming as he sobbed in his sleep. The man was crying and biting his lip so hard he had drawn blood from it already.

Yuri pushed his arms, trying to be set free but it was no use. It seemed it would be impossible for him to ever be released. He felt choked and Otabek was not waking up.

“Beka… Beka.” He called him, crying out of fear. “ _Otabek_. Please…”

He was squirming and fighting something invisible with his legs before he suddenly released Yuri, pushing him until he was thrown out of the mattress into the cold floor. But now he gripped his own neck, struggling with something that really wasn’t there and Yuri felt so overwhelmed he couldn't move.

“Yura!”

_Until he had to._

“Beka!” Yuri jumped at the bed once more, his hands taking Otabek's out of his thirst to push them to each side of his head. He was slender but not weak, and it gave him the opportunity to struggle against the man beneath him who kept crying and calling his name.

“Yuri! Yuri!!” He called him and kept calling him, not giving up even when Yuri answered every time.

“Beka!” 

He was whimpering now and Yuri couldn't do anything for him. He was practically weeping and Yuri's hair fell over his skin like a golden curtain that stuck to his wet skin. Yuri shook him and still nothing, Otabek's arms tried to push him off of his body but Yuri wasn't giving up until he was thrown once more to the air, landing at the floor on his ass as Otabek screamed something incoherent into nothingness before his eyes snapped open and landed on Yuri.

“Oh my God.” He muttered, looking the smaller frame of the dancer in the floor.

Yet for Yuri it only took one of those three words to get up, hurriedly and scrambling over himself before he was crawling back to him.

“Beka?” He extended one hand but Otabek shrunk down and shook his head.

“No, _stay away_. I don't want to hurt you…” He closed his eyes before muttering. “I already did it.”

Yuri shook his head in panic.

“Nono… _no_!” He ignored Otabek's request and knelt beside him, holding him close to his body as he kissed the back of his ear.

Otabek tried to push him yet again, slightly this time but Yuri wouldn’t move at all. He held him down and helped him ease his breathing, guiding him with his own deep respiration until Otabek was following along.

“It was a nightmare. You were so scared… I know you didn't mean it.” He reassured him seconds later. “It just happened but its fine now. I'm fine and you're awake.”

Otabek shook his head.

“Yes, yes it's fine. _We're_ fine…” Yuri pushed his own fear aside, helping this man out of his fear and nightmare. There was something that held him back and Otabek looked like he remained deep on his nightmare even when he was clearly awake. His eyes unfocused and his face red, he drifted out and started to get lost in his thoughts even when Yuri kept and kept talking to him with his heart on his throat. Otabek was not responding and Yuri was worried once more.

When Otabek was scared, it frightened the soul out of Yuri, it was not a common sight and Yuri remembered that he _hated it_.

“It doesn't matter. It was an accident.” He soothed him, bringing him up to his own lap to pull him out of his distress. “What _happened_? Want to talk to me about it?”

Otabek needed more than a few minutes to answer.

“It's just… _you_ , in the middle of a bombing.” He said after an eternity. “Or a shooting. Sometimes you're with my sisters or alone. Even my mother has been there. But it's you who always appears.”

“ _Always_? Is this recurrent?” Yuri wondered once more.

Otabek didn’t answer right away, too.

“It didn't happen in so long… I only had these nightmares the first year of service.” He shuddered. “I was dismissed and they came back. My… my therapist said it was to be expected. I-I was on PTSD medication, but I ran out of it and since I haven’t had a check-up yet…”

_PTSD? A therapist? Medication?_

“When was the last time you saw them?” Yuri asked him.

“More than two months. I haven't found one here in the city so I…”

“You should be looking for one. You still need professional help.”

Otabek shook his head.

“No. I have you.” He tried to reach for his face but Yuri didn’t allow him.

Yuri huffed.

“I'm not having any of that _bullshit_. I will always be here, I will always help you…But you need a professional to help you and push you through all of this. I don't want you to hurt because you weren't helped the right way.”  

Otabek glared at him.

“I won't do anything…” He said it like it _meant_ something.

“Some people never come back from war. I don't want you to be one of them.” Yuri kissed his forehead. “I love you far too much to let you go because of it. I told you, you are never going back there.”

And he meant it.

But now that he had a full picture… things started to fit in place.

Little signs like getting earlier to his stupid welcome party, the silence before he spoke to Yuri when they first saw each other, the constant need of touching Yuri and the way he looked for him everywhere he turned. It hadn’t been a day since they saw themselves once more but Yuri already knew there was something different, something wrong, something hurting and damaging him. He knew they would need more time together, more nights and days to get to know each other fully once more. It would take a hell lot more to understand all of this but if Otabek was trusting him already to tell him he knew he had to cooperate, too, by making an effort to learn how to help him and take care of him from now on.

 _There was so much to do_.

“I know what you mean.” Beka said after a while. “But I don't think I can open up to another doctor and…”

“You can and you will.” He stated without saying more.

“I will look for one this week, okay?”

Yuri nodded, just accepting as he stared into Otabek’s eyes not saying anything yet.

_What happened there?_

There was so much going on in his head he barely could speak. There was a huge fear of opening another incontrollable door like this one if he was impolite or rude that made him feel encaged and frozen in his place. Yet he _knew_ he needed to know just enough to be useful to Otabek. How could he ever help him if they never talked about it? Yet he didn’t know if all the possible outcomes were worth the trouble and the pain.

He didn´t want to cause Otabek any more pain.

“Never think you're scaring me. I will not let you go again.” He whispered and kissed him once he found peace on that simple thought. “Just talk to me next one you don’t feel alright.”

Otabek nodded and held Yuri closer, burying his face on his hair and inhaling the deep scent of lavender and himself that came from their past encounter.

Yuri couldn't see but he was able to tell that Otabek was smiling. There was nothing like feeling him smile so fondly at him to calm his nerves.

It was like if nothing had ever changed.

 _Even if everything else did_.

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuri found Otabek getting more and more tired everyday. He was worn and his hands spent most of the time as dirty as his back was tense. He complained a lot and stopped talking to Yuri even when they _had_ the time for it. He started to get more and more quiet, seemingly enraptured by his own thoughts and lost in his head most of the time. Yuri stopped seeing him around their place and for a second he even thought he was leaving him.

Then it hit him.

Otabek was not leaving him, nor he was depressed like he once thought.

Otabek was _worried_.

And his worry manifested itself on his own silence, on his own doubts, on the way he drifted apart from Yuri and how he pretended not to be there. How he kept himself absent from Yuri’s recitals and his nights out, the way he stayed at home and never answered the phone.

And it wasn’t the first time.

Not so long ago, Otabek used the “I’m not good enough for you” excuse to break up with Yuri. And the worst thing is that he really meant it. And now _that_ was making its comeback because the workshop wasn’t going as planned.

But how could it? He just opened it _two months_ ago.

Otabek turned 21 and suddenly life crushed him with an unbearable weight of having to _do everything_ in his power to become this realized adult at such a young age just to seem _worthy_ of Yuri.

And whatever that _bullshit_ was, it was costing them so much more than any small inversion they had made on some tools and a couple of motor parts. It was heavier than a thousand bikes and it hurt Yuri more than any series of stretches could ever pull his muscles to the point of burn. It ached and it made Yuri felt like he was lost and useless because Otabek was only drifting and drifting and if he didn’t catch up he was going to go away.

And God knows what that could do to Yuri.

He was already in deep pain.

But it didn´t stop there.

Because then it came the fighting, the screaming, the insults and the tears that seemed to break through everything.

_Even through their love._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuri landed in the floor with the loudest _thud_! ever, falling on his stomach with his arms barely scraping the wooden surface. He groaned and rolled until he was laying on his back.

“Son of a _bitch_.” He muttered, inhaling the humidity from the dance classroom as he heard a couple of steady heels approaching by.

“Even when you're falling on your ass you're still more graceful than many of my students, Yurochka.”

He looked up to find Lila Baranovskaya above him.

“I fell on my _abdomen_ , thank you.” He immediately got up and bowed at the director of the academy of ballet at the Arts Conservatory. “Good afternoon, _Madame_.”

She only nodded before smirking. The gesture was odd but flattering on her sharp features.

“I see you're preparing for your summer performance, isn't it?” Yuri nodded.

Autumn was approaching and Yuri found himself on his last season before going away on a tour previous to the Christmas special. August was his last month before getting on board around the country and as much as it excited him, it made him nervous. Hence, the restless, never (and nerve)-ending rehearsals and practices. If he wasn’t _perfect_ he wouldn’t get the money to fully afford his traveling expenses and he was _not_ asking a penny more from Victor ever again in his goddamned life.

_He was past that life._

“My participation will also be taken into the Baranovsky prize so I have to do it three times as good as I would for a recital.” Lila hummed in approval once she heard her former student. “I have less than two weeks to go and I still feel like there's something missing.”

Lila shook his head.

“I've been watching you, you're _changing_ and that's why you feel you lack something.” She sighed, closing her arms over her chest as she tilted her head and gave him a sharp nod. “But in reality you're dancing differently. Not bad, _different_. And it looks good on you.”

Yuri gave her a queasy glare.

“You're starting to feel… _more_.” She squeezed her eyes. “What's going on in your life, Yurochka?”

What _wasn´t_?

For starters he had left this incredible man that had proposed to him because the _other_ love of his life had suddenly come back from war. He was struggling with his mental health and Yuri still had a huge student loan debt to pay that seemed to grow and grow every day, Potya was sick and the hospital wouldn’t let him see his grandpa. On top of all that his recital was going to be _whack_ if he didn´t polish it up and the fact that he was going to be away for two full months in less than three weeks did quite a number on his _control_. Even if lately he lacked all of it.

_He lacked so much right now._

Consistency on his _battements,_ for example, were only a starter.

“Otabek's back.”

“Ah!” She almost smiled. “That Altin boy. I've always been fond of him.” Yuri snickered, unable to contain himself. “He's back from the army?”

“The air forces, but yes.”

“And is he staying?” Yuri nodded. “I'm glad. And happy for you. Maybe you'll become the dancer you were before. I'm excited to see how your performance will turn out.”

Yuri couldn't help but growl before smiling.

Lila was… _right_. His dancing had changed.

And not _technically_ speaking. Because he’s as close as _flawless_ as he could ever be.

He had been able to recognize de difference on his patterns and his sequences, the way his feet stopped being airy to transform into decided stomps. He knows he doesn’t fly anymore when he’s jumping and he seems to create full-fledged tornados with every spin and turn he gave. He has changed and so his dancing, his performing and it has everything to do with the way his life had been transforming itself. Yet, he wished to be just as beautiful as he used to be.

Lila _said it_ once, there was no use on being strong if there was no beauty on it.

He wanted to be delicate once more, soft and careful with every step and every jump without the need to ditch his fierceness. He _knows_ he can but there was something he needed to do it.

“Yeah… I guess it will be interesting.” But the truth was that now he had it, and that he needed to use it for his own good.

“If you have the inspiration the rest will follow, Yurochka.” Lila gave him another small smile as Yuri bowed.

Once he was facing the floor, he laughed with no sound at it.

_Yuri couldn't wait to dance for Otabek._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

“Will you come?” Yuri kissed him again on the lips. “ _Please_?”

Otabek chuckled, biting his lip before answering.

“ _Maybe_ after a kiss or two more…” Yuri stepped back and laughed loudly at him.

“Really? You're bargaining me like that?” He giggled and kissed his cheek, arms sliding to the other man’s waist. “Please Beka!”

Yuri buried his face on Otabek’s shirt, inhaling the deep oil scent that came off from it, mixed with mint and something that smelled like new car. He just got back from the Air Forces and the state government got him a job as head mechanic at a workshop near downtown. He did great and, since it was temporary, soon he would have his own garage once more. But for now, Yuri had visited him on his lunch break with a couple of bento boxes Yuuri made for them and a pint of ice-cream he got from a store down the block for the two of them. _Maybe_  he shouldn’t be having so much sugar this close to the recital but he didn´t care.

Otabek brushed his hair with his hand, chuckling as Yuri looked up once more.

 “I'm only playing with you.” His smile was simply _blinding_. “Of course I'm coming. Wouldn't miss it for the world.” Otabek kissed his forehead. “You know how much I love seeing you dancing.”

Yuri smiled and rolled his eyes.

“Bet you don't even remember.” Otabek did the same, exaggerating the gesture to much of their amusement.

“How could I forget?” He held Yuri by the hips, his hands had been sliding lower and lower each time. “All that grace, all that power and strength… your _body_ in tights and spandex.” Yuri was laughing once more, covering up his face with his lithe hands to hide his blush as he nudged Otabek with his elbows. “No but for real, you are always beautiful but when you dance… you're _surreal_. You're so gorgeous and talented and fueled by a passion that I've missed way too much.”

Yuri relished on his words, hiding his face on Otabek's shoulder as he whispered.

“I want you to be there. That's why I had to ask.” He kissed his clothed shoulder. “Will you sit in the first row, for me?”

Otabek huffed before cupping Yuri's face on his palms, smiling so sweetly Yuri almost couldn't hold his gaze.

“I've been _to war_ for you, there's nothing I wouldn't do if you just ask for it.”

_Would he?_

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Otabek said he wanted to join the army once he heard a former _Marine_ talking about the pay, dropping some _expensive ass_ Harley-Davidson at his workshop three months or so after his own dismissal.

Then he _opened his mouth_ , saying how Otabek had the height and the built for it and how he would do great on the army with all his _brains_.

Otabek couldn't get his head out of that stupid idea before that day.

And he _told_ Yuri he was _thinking_ about it. Constantly.

And it was all crazy to Yuri, how not even a couple of months after Otabek _proposing_ to him he was having all of the sudden this huge, different and complicated plans that would simply damage their barely crafted future together.

_How was Yuri going to marry someone dead?_

Yuri decided to ignore it, paying it no mind and pretending he didn’t hear him was easier than picturing him _leaving_ to war. It was better than _imagining_ him on a coffin.

Yes it wasn't easy, yes life at the city was expensive. Yes, they only were two young adults who played grown-ups too soon and now had to deal with _real life_ in general. It wasn't fair and it wasn't easy but they were _fine_.

They still _managed_ but Otabek…

 _Otabek wanted more_.

 

**-** **♡** **-**

As relentless as time could be, it also allowed beautiful things to grown when cared for.

Yuri swayed on his feet like he hadn‘t before. He was light and elegant, graceful and strong on each and everyone on his movements. The strength never faltering, the consistency always perfect and his overall choreography totally precious. Yuri felt like he wasn’t dancing but speaking with every action his body made. He was following the music, he was interpreting the melody and it all showed up on his features; on his softened eyes and the way he smiled slightly every now and then. He was pleased, _happy_ with his presentation and the world was being able to see it.

Weeks after Otabek’s arrival, after Lila’s insight on his evolution as a dancer and Jean’s calls, Yuri found himself in the middle of his much expected recital with the rest of the Academy graduates and the Company participation.

As cruel as time could be, it had a certain consideration for all things important.

He finished his presentation with all the perfection he had been gathering up for months, the sweat dripping through his white lace costume and the blood probably coming inevitably off from his skin. He was burning, his muscles ached and his face flushed from effort and yet Yuri smiled at the crowd with nothing but teeth and closed eyes. He bowed at them with a hand over his heart and received the applause with open arms as the kisses flew in the air. He looked down, nodding at Victor before winking at Otabek, who was at the first row with a smile plastered on his face.

 _He knew_.

And he let Yuri know by the way he mouthed ‘ _I love you_ ’ at him.

Yuri could only blush.

He bent over a couple more times and smiled at the crowd when a flash of yellow flowers blinded him to the point where he took a step back and shook his head before rushing out of the scenario. It had been rude but he got all nervous as soon as he saw a mere glimpse of the sunflowers.

 _What was him doing here_?

Trying to get rid of the horrible feeling of panic, he sighed and turned to his co-dancers who smiled proudly at him. He heard and accepted all of their congratulations, smiling to much of his distress, before walking away to the changing room to get out of his costume as soon as possible.

Stripping from the tight lace and spandex, Yuri hissed at the sensation of the fabric being peeled off from his sweaty skin. He scrunched up his nose and sighed once he was naked on the dresser, confined against the wall and with almost no space to bend over and get his shoes off.

Yuri wondered what would happen if he went out right now, calling Otabek to meet him outside the theatre instead of waiting to the closing ceremony and spend time with him around some other fifty dancers in the middle of the theatre. He would be exposed, and after what he saw on the bleachers, Yuri wouldn’t want to test his luck.

He _knew_ what he did, but he wasn’t proud of it.

Not enough to flaunt it, at least.

Yuri walked out ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of fitted dress pants in navy blue and a pale pink shirt with a wide bow on the neck. His hair was still knotted into a bun so he took it and brushed it down until it was untangled. To finish with it, he took the hair straightener and pressed the hot planks between his many long locks until it was perfectly sleek. Yuri watched his reflection on the mirror and rolled his eyes at his friend who watched him behind his back.

“You were beautiful Yurio!” Yuuri, who just finished his set, came crashing to his side to envelope him into a warm kimono-hug.

He huffed.

“Thanks Katsudon.” He stared at his friend's winged eyes and rolled his own. “You look amazing, I bet your performance was flawless.”

“ _Eh_.” He shrugged. “It was okay. I'm glad I didn't apply for the prize or it would've been embarrassing.” Yuri pushed him and growled.

“Don't say that! I saw you killing yourself for weeks with that set! It must've been fantastic!”

Yuuri giggled and hugged Yuri once more.

“It was fine.” He sighed. “You're definitely winning… I would ask where the inspiration came from but I saw one _very_ good looking young man at the front row who seemed like he wanted to get out of the venue the second you stepped outside the scenario.”

Yuri blushed and rolled his eyes.

“He got stupidly hot!” Yuuri giggled and took Yuri by the hand, who tried his honest best on hiding his smile against his own shoulder. “C’mon before someone else steals your man…”

Yuri grumbled and took his tote bag while trying not to stare too hard at his own reflection in the mirror.

 _Keep running away_.

Dragging him out of the backstage, where some dancers clapped and others ignored them, Yuuri hurriedly pushed a couple of doors on his way to the theatre lobby with Yuri besides him. They walked quickly, their feet almost causing friction against the dark carpet in their need of getting out. Yuuri said something about his makeup itching and Yurio shouted at him for not applying primer before, making the scene seem much more familiar than it actually was.

In the past, Yuri would’ve _never_ left a recital before the closing acts.

But he couldn’t stand another second inside the venue…

“Victor texted me when you were on stage and said Otabek would be waiting for you at the…”

Yuri crashed against one body he knew all too well, cutting his friend who gasped loudly and pulled his friend to is arms to prevent him from falling down.

“J-Jean…” He stammered, looking into the other man’s blue eyes with worry as he released himself from Yuuri’s grip.

“Hey _Chaton_.” He had the sunflowers between his arms, the ones Yuri saw in the crowd. “You were gorgeous out there…”

Yurio gulped and squeezed Yuuri’s hands pleadingly, before getting back in track.

“Thank you.” He said, no emotion whatsoever on his tone.

“Oh, hey  JJ!” Yuuri intervened, anxiety leaking through his words. “What-what are you doing here? There are still some numbers missing.” He gave him a little smile, which Jean ignored as he kept looking into Yuri.

“The recital’s not over.” Yuri repeated his friend’s words. “You should get back, there are some amazing things coming up.”

“Why haven't you called me back?” Jean asked to him in return, ignoring yet again what the younger men tried to say. “I've looked everywhere for you… I've been calling like crazy.”

“I know.”

_Yuri’s heart was breaking._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuri walked out of Otabek's place with nothing but a huge smile and the flavor of a thousand kisses on his lips and skin.

The morning after their night together was _everything_ he ever hoped it would be and even if he stayed a little longer than he should've, helping Otabek to start calling into some doctors’ numbers, time with him had been like a dream. And he loved every second of it.

Now, he had to go back to the academy for a special class he had signed up for that week and it almost physically _ached_.

Yuri was already graduated but he decided to stay at the academy for the cheap living and the free studio time. Also, now that he was a main soloist in the National Company, it always came in handy to keep himself around his roots.  He loved spending time at his place, he truly felt at home and most of the time Yuri enjoyed the environment created by music and the other dancers. He loved the area and every time he stepped out of his dorm, Yuri felt like he was walking on his teenage fantasy.

Even if when he walked out of Otabek's, face still flushed and kisses lingering, he hated the five mile distance between the apartment and the academy, Yuri still wanted to get to it as soon as possible. The class would be great and after his night with Otabek, everything seemed in place.

“Be careful, Yura.”

He hopped into the first bus he saw with the appropriate route number, sighing and sitting down at the first empty seat he found to doze slightly until he reached the dorms. Yuri jumped from the bus and walked to the third floor, making his way through the students who lived in the residence and the few dancers that, like him, stayed around for both comfort and work, until he crashed down on his bed.

Potya, his beautiful cat, climbed through the bed and laid on Yuri’s stomach as soon as he could. Mewling, he sniffed Yuri and almost bristled at the faint smile of _someone_ she didn’t know, or more so, didn’t remember.

_Otabek._

Yuri chuckled and nodded.

“I know, girl.” He said to her in Russian. “I know.”

The cat gave him a practically annoyed huff and sat down beside him, allowing Yuri to get his phone from his bag to turn it on after more than twelve hours off.

_Seventeen missed calls._

_Forty five texts._

Yuri rolled his eyes; most of the texts were from some dumb chat group Yuuri once made to keep everyone in check about cardio class, then some other from Yuuri himself. And _Victor_. A couple of calls from them, Mila, an unknown number Yuri supposed it belonged to Sara and the rest… the rest was _JJ_.

_Eleven calls._

_Twenty texts._

_One_ bloody _email._

Yuri sighed and let Victor know he was fine with a unsympathetic call, texted Yuuri to meet for lunch after his class and ignored Jean for a solid half hour before his class started. Then, five minutes before the teacher entered the studio; he blocked his number and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Nobody said a thing but Yuri definitely didn’t do good on his class. He tumbled down a couple of times, kept his feet wobbly and his legs heavy as he tried to follow the crazy rhythm set by the choreographer. It made him feel stupid, but nothing hurt him more than knowing what he was doing to Jean.

 _He knew_.

It took him another hour but when he finally found himself calm again, he replied to Jean Jacques with a short text from Yuuri’s phone, at lunch, before turning his own off once more.  

“So, are you back with Otabek?” Yuuri asked casually after he had his phone back.

“That’s… that’s a lot to say.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. God knows where we stand right now.”}

Yuri nodded.

“But you _did_ break up with JJ.” Yuri nodded. “Maybe you should let Otabek now that, then. So you can talk and fix…”

“I can manage myself Katsudon, thank you. Stay out of it.” He snapped, making Yuuri to jump slightly in his place. He looked totally startled. Yuri sighed. “Fuck, sorry Yuuri.”

He only shook his head, puling himself out of his surprise.

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t nose around.” He gave Yuri a comforting smile. “I get it. Think about it, I’m free to talk anytime you want.” Winking at him, he got up and directed to the bathroom as Yurio stayed behind and waited for him.

_He hated everything right now._

Only Otabek could ease the pain later that night, holding Yuri on his arms as they cooked their first dinner together in five years. And even if they ate it on the floor, over a couple of boxes and in disposable plates, Yuri knew he had made what he had to. He was in the right place for him.  

Or so he thought.

 

**-** **♡** **-**

“Then why didn't you pick up?” Jean wondered, stepping closer as Yuuri stood in front of Yurio.

“Look, JJ. I don't think right now is the perfect moment to deal with this. Yurio and I…”

Yuri cleared his throat.

“It's fine, Katsudon. Go and get dressed, okay?” Yuuri gave him a confused look, sort of telling him to just go with him for _Otabek_ but Yuri ignored it with a little shake if his head. There was something he had to do before.

“I thought you…”

“I'll see you later, at Leo's?” Yuuri sighed and nodded, turning around as he tied his kimono a bit tighter, even if he wasn’t going to go to the bar that night.

Jean followed Yuri's gaze until it fell back into his face.

“These… these are for you.” Yuri looked at the flowers and gave him a little smile, taking them as their hands brushed for a mere second.

The electricity from that single touch had the younger blushing.

 _There are things that simply won’t ever change_.

“Thank you.” He muttered before clearing his throat. “What… what are you doing here? I thought you had a business trip and you wouldn’t make it.”

Jean raised his hand, nodding.

“Sent my assistant. This was more important… I had to see you. Talk to you.” Yuri shook his head. “No, _yes_. I had to come. I know that lately I haven't been the best man. And I understand that that's what made us split. What made you leave.”

“No. Jean, I left because I don't think we should be together anymore. I know you want to get married and I… I can't marry you.” His voice was stern. Compassionate, still, but strict. “I don’t want to tie you down when you’re looking for more.”

_I’ve always been engaged._

Jean laughed sadly and tried to reach for him, but Yuri took one step behind. The rose dust on his cheeks was stronger, probably from embarrassment, and he wondered for a mere second what would've been that turned him into a stranger for Jean. He knew the look he was giving him. And Yuri still remembered the days where they couldn't even keep their hands to themselves, when things were easier and the future was only the following day; not a wedding and children. When everything was laughter and kisses, hugs that lasted for hours and late night conversations that transformed themselves into slow dancing on the kitchen, the dining table, their beds. When time had been much less severe on them.

“We don’t have to get married, if that’s what you want.” He answered. “I can live with that.”

“I'm sorry but… I can't be with you anymore.” Yuri tried to look anywhere else but JJ’s face, but his stare was not letting him go. “Married or not.”

“You can't say that.” Jean reached for his face, a gesture so gentle Yuri almost leaned into it. “I'm here to get you back.”

“ _Yura_?” Something in Yuri's eyes changed drastically, turning him into almost a little kid who was about to be scolded by his parents, caught _in fraganti_. But how he clutched the sunflowers to his chest and smiled to himself like Jean has never truly seen him smile said a whole different story. One that Jean wasn't part of.

 _One older than them_.

Turning around, Yuri found Otabek leaning on a velvet wall. Dressed in a casual suit with a closed neck shirt underneath his blazer, he smiled at Yuri like there was something lingering between them that was over a _thousand_ years old. It wasn't some sort of first love glance or a casual affection but a recently renewed _devotion_ that had been there before.

“Good evening…” Jean's eyes examined the series of flags and the couple of medals resting over his chest. “Lieutenant?”

“ _Commander_.” Otabek corrected him, face stoic with no trace of the past emotion that had tainted his features when he looked at Yuri. “Air forces. I see you know Yura, here.”

“I do…” He sounded uncertain, eying both of them. “And you are?”

“Otabek Altin. His best friend.” Yuri closed his eyes, trying to hide his smile behind the flowers he was holding, his green orbs sinking into Otabek's face.

 _Act like he’s not here_.

“Ah!” Jean turned to Yuri, who was not looking back at him. “That's… _new_. I've known him for quite some time and I've never heard of you.” Now Yuri was looking at him, eyes wide with puzzlement. “I thought Yuuri was your best friend.”

“It's complicated.” He muttered before turning again to Otabek, who smirked and winked at him, their little secret growing bigger right in front of Jean. .

“It is.” He sighed, caressing Yuri's cheek only with his _gaze_ before looking once more to Jean Jacques. “I just came back but I was away on my service for… Quite a while.”

“ _Five_ bloody years are quite a while, aren't they?” Yuri spoke up, anger on his tone but eyes sparking up with fun.

“You make it sound so simple. It was harder than that, okay?” He huffed a little laugh and Yuri rolled his eyes, but none of their tiny banter seemed at all aggressive or mean. It was pretty endearing, in fact.

But it didn’t do much to lighten the air.

The tension was thick, it could be felt through the three men standing in the dark corridor of the theatre. Everyone beyond that little hall was unaware of the venom in the words and of the different electric discharges that heated every single inch of space among the bodies that almost crowded the passageway. Yuri was nervous, tense and silent as a feline waiting for its pray as both Otabek and Jean stood on the sidelines as bigger, darker creatures lurking to catch the kitten in its act to drag it away with them. A sense of _hunt_ could be interpreted from their glaring, the need, the curiosity. It turned the place hazy, erasing its edges and drawing invisible lines to limit the space where they stood. Nobody trusted no one.

_And somebody was going to lose._

“Yeah I heard you the first thousand times.” He shrugged and turned to Jean, something he didn’t want to say lingering on his pink lips. “I- I have to go. But I'll see you around.” He tried to smile, pretending they weren’t on the verge of fighting seconds ago, but nothing came from his lips. There was no reason on faking the gesture now. Not anymore after three months of nothing but fake happiness.

No matter how much they loved each other, that didn’t guaranteed them any kind of joy.

“Yeah, but _Yuri_ -” He grabbed him by the shoulder before he could take another step ahead. “Something's not right in all of _this_.” His gaze drifted between Otabek and Yuri, jumping from one into the other as he tried to _understand_. “Why didn't you ever tell me about _this_? About _him_?”

Otabek also walked closer.  

_The space was getting smaller._

“If it was important, if it was hurting you…” Yuri shook his head, pulling his arm from him but Jean didn't let go. His grip tightened. “We were together and you didn't trust me _enough_ to tell me?”

“I think you should let him go…” Otabek reached for them but Jean took another step back and yanked Yuri with him. He recoiled on his place and pushed JJ away.

He went _off._

“I didn't tell you because you had no reason to know!” He bit his lip as he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes before he spoke, measuring his words. “There are things I kept to myself. There is _a lot_ of stuff you didn't know and not because I didn't trust you. I did, _I do_. But some things are meant to kept under lock and key for _our_ own good. _This_ …” He walked to Otabek, opening his eyes as he moved backwards. “Him, _myself_ … It's all part of a life you were never in. It's from beyond you and me. That makes it enough to be kept away from you and everyone else who don't belong to the beginning. And that's _it_.”

The spell that had been casted over them broke with those words, along with Jean’s resolve and Otabek’s temper. They were suddenly reduced to their passions, their feelings and the hearts that beat so fucking loud inside their chests that it sounded stronger than the drums inside the theatre as, probably Guang Hong, started his own set. Their heat burned completely and the smoke it produced only made the mist darker.

Nobody could see past themselves and Yuri, Yuri who always tried his best, gave up far too quickly on this whole thing.

Yuri didn’t want any of this.

Throwing the sunflowers into Jean's chest, he turned around and walked quickly past Otabek. His footsteps sounded like thunder and his breath like ocean waves crashing into a house just before being hit by a storm.

He didn't look at them and bother men behind him stared at his back just as children look at monsters and grown men at their ghosts.

“ _Yuri_!” They both shouted before looking to the other, Otabek with surprise and Jean with incomprehension.

It was all they said before Otabek rushed after Yuri, running like he used to at the platform whenever he was called into a mission. Jean, on the other hand, stood right where he was while hugging the sunflowers. He felt like he had never felt, _powerless_.

 _There he goes_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I know this makes no sense but neither do I...   
> As usual, forgive any mistakes and please let me know what you think. I'd really, really appreciate it! ♡ Have a lovely week, sending a thousand hugs.


	7. Ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are things one simply cannot control.  
> Some others are just untameable.

“I am joining the army, Yura.”

It was late in the night, both Otabek and Yuri couldn't sleep and the world around them just appeared to be absent. It was like they were the only ones in the universe, and it weighed more than a thousand million pounds, the feeling of loneliness that somehow pinned them down to their places on the bed, than the words Otabek had just said.  

“Why?” Yuri mumbled after a while.

“The money is great.” Beka replied, trying to take his hand.

“If you come back alive.” He didn't allow him.

“Whatever happens you will have my income. You can have the life you want.”

_That’s not what this is about._

“I don't want a life where you're not in it.”

Yuri stood up after his statement, somehow propelled by an uncontrollable fear of listening the next words coming out of his fiancé's lips.

Otabek just turned 21, he barely had proposed to Yuri four months ago and now he was talking about endangering his life and leaving Yuri behind. Alone. It was an unbearable thought and yet it would be accomplished in no time. Yuri was _terrified_ of what could come next, and even if he tried to run away from whatever was about to happen, he knew he was only making it hurt more.

“Yura…” He didn't even stop, just shaking his head and walking into their small living room. Otabek faithfully followed him, throwing the covers aside to get to Yuri. “I want you to be safe, to never _need_ anything. I want to provide for you and the workshop is not doing the trick.”

Yuri turned around; fierce green eyes shining with the resentment of someone who knew this could have happened anytime.

“I don't need anything else than what we have.” He rubbed his eyes. “ _Fuck that_! The only thing that I need is for you to stay here. With _me_!!”

Otabek roamed his hands through his hair, messing it up before his palms hit his thighs in defeat. He looked to worn out to be so young.

“It's something I have to do. There are people who need me. I can help them and help you, too. There's something calling me to the battlefield and it has not much to do with the money, although it comes handy.”

_Bullshit._

Yuri's blood was boiling, his head hurting and his palms sweating. Everything sounded so _wrong_ and yet he knew there was no way he could hold Otabek back. If he had already made up his mind, there was no way he or anyone else could change Otabek. He couldn't do anything and that petrified him just as much as the idea of watching him go. 

But the idea of losing him overseas, somewhere else in the world where Yuri wouldn't even _know_ until days before when his body was back into the country, just shattered his soul in a trillion little pieces that pierced his body to the point where he felt he was almost bleeding.

Yuri couldn't stand it anymore but what was there to do?

He looked around, to their small apartment and the _home_ they had made together. The place was affordable, exactly where it had to be for Yuri’s classes and Otabek’s garage. Close to their families but far away from the nosy neighbors. Inside, it held warmth and love and acted as a safe haven for them. It was a _sanctuary_.

But, without Otabek…

Without Otabek it was nothing.

“ _I can't lose you_.”

“You won't.” Yuri gave him his back once more. The _rage_ he felt was surreal.

“Really? You don't think there's a teeny _tiny_ possibility of being at a cross-fire? At some kind of ambush? You could be standing just like _this_ on your own base and someone will pull a gun at you or kick you in the head a thousand times to kill you.” He shuddered at his own words. “If you go I might never see you again!”

Otabek stepped closer but it was Yuri who reached for him and held him in his arms. He had been growing lately, just enough for the both of them to be the same height and it allowed Yuri to spoon the older man with no trouble. They wrapped each other with their limbs and stroked their bodies with trembling hands, unsure of what to do.

 _Like they didn’t know each other_.

“That's not true. You know I can take care of myself.”

“But you're going to _war_ ; the fact that you know your way around life is not equivalent to surviving in combat.” Yuri kissed his forehead. “You are kind and thoughtful, but not _everyone_ in this world is. Nobody gives a damn there will be people here waiting for you. If they want to, they'll kill you anyway.”

Otabek didn't say a thing and Yuri wasn't naive enough to think it was because he was thinking on what Yuri said.

 _No_.

Otabek wasn't pondering the different options he had, he wasn't thinking about what _could_ happen or what could go wrong at some mission. Otabek wasn't contemplating the fact that there are lost bullets, misplaced bombs and betrayal inside their own army. He was letting Yuri speak because he knew how important it was for him to be heard, nothing else. In the end, Otabek wasn't going to change his mind. He was going and that was it. No discussion was really needed.

“How long?” Yuri mumbled.

“Over a year before my first leave."

But at 19, Yuri Plisetsky was always down to _fight_. Even with those he loved. And Yuri had to let him know he was going to be worried to sickness when he went, that he might stop eating and sleeping. How his anxiety would eat him alive and the way he would beg, every day, somehow, for him to come back. Yuri was willing to exchange blows with him for _days_ if that meant making a point but Otabek was not like him.

 _He would only listen._  

“I know.” He breathed out, burying his face on Yuri's neck. “But I have to. And I will. Tomorrow I'm going to register and I need you to come with me.”

Yuuri shook his head.

 _But he was already saying 'yes’_.

**-** **♡** **-**

 

“Are you okay?” Otabek asked, brushing Yuri's hair with his hand as he tried to find his eyes in the mess of gold that covered his face.

“Shut up.” He grumbled even if he didn't mean it.

 _The look on Jean's face_.

Yuri didn't feel himself. Everything was a disaster and he felt like he had betrayed just everyone on his life. Yuuri's support, JJ’s love and Otabek's sacrifice. He sent everything to hell because he was _selfish_ , because he was _careless_. Now he could lose everything and he was just so, so _helpless_.

_What did he do?_

“Yura, baby. What's wrong?” Otabek tried to lift his face but Yuri was not yielding.

He sighed and sat down beside him.

They were at Yuri's place, since it was not even five blocks away from the theatre the recital was. Yuri had literally run all the way from the venue to his dorm and Otabek had actually lost him a couple of times before they reached the hall of the residence. Now they were there, at the edge of Yuri's bed, as summer rain poured outside. The incessant sound of droplets hitting concrete was louder than the bullets at war when Otabek heard them at this _dead_ silence and he couldn't stand it anymore.

But Yuri just seemed to be someone else.

“Please talk to me…” He asked, holding his hands and kissing them for Yuri to turn to him. “Tell me something. Anything.

Potya walked around them, purring with doubt before throwing Otabek a judgmental glare before she ran away through the door. Maybe the tension was too much for her. 

“You're going to hate me.” He mumbled.

“I'm not.” Otabek assured him.

But how couldn’t he?

Yuri had dated some other man as he waited for him, engaged, to come back from war. He had lived and slept with someone who wasn’t him, when they had _promised_ each other to save themselves for the day they could see again. They had said so much and Yuri broke every single promise he ever made to Otabek when he was away, shooting bullets and spilling blood on foreign soil. He had played with their relationship, their trust, their love. Their _everything_.

How couldn’t he? When he had fallen _in love_ with Jean.

“You are.” Yuri assured, looking up with sorrowful eyes. “His name's Jean. He's thirty, working as a CEO on his own company and I was going to marry him, after three years of dating.”

Otabek gulped.

“You _were_?”

Yuri shook his head, realizing what he said.

“I don't know…” He breathed out and stood up. “I do know, I mean he asked and I said no but we didn’t break up. I said no and we still saw each other, we stayed together.” He muttered.

“Marry him…” Otabek wondered, his head tilted to one side as Yuri undid the neck of his blouse.

“I didn't think you'd be back anytime soon and even if you _did_ , I imagined you already had someone else. The world is big, you’re the greatest man I’ve ever known and we… we stopped talking, I didn't know anything about you and I was so scared of being alone.” Yuri sighed and looked over his shoulder, at the open window that kept allowing small droplets of water to fall into his bare desk. “I wanted to stay as much as he’d allowed me to-”

“I told you I was going to come back.” Otabek cut him.

“Yeah but when?” Yuri snapped, face turning abruptly back at him with such a intensity his neck almost snapped. Otabek stood up.  

“You _doubted_ me?” He asked, getting closer to Yuri, palms to each side of his legs to encage him with his frame. “You doubted _me_ and then you tried to fuck some rich guy to marry instead?”

Yuri's face went red, undignified, before he stood up hastily with rage on his bones. He pushed Otabek back and stared at him before his gaze went downwards to the floor.

“I _never_ intended marrying him. And I didn’t just _fuck_ him, Beka. Don’t be such a dick.” His voice was barely audible.

“Yet you _did_.” Otabek crossed his arms over his chest, an unusual poison dripping from his lips as he spoke. “I saw how he looked at you, how he _wanted_ to touch you.”

“I was just afraid I would never have anyone.” Yuri’s voice started to pick up volume in a crescendo of emotion before looking back at Otabek. “And he was _always_ there. He never left and took me _everywhere_ with him. It went on for three years. Still, when he proposed I said no. No matter what we had.”

“Why?” Otabek could also be relentless, himself.

“Because I still waited for you!” Yuri took a deep breath in. “I thought about you, I prayed for you, I wrote to you. _Everyday_.”

“Then what made you change?” Beka hissed, stepping into Yuri’s personal space. “You _never_ told him you were already engaged so you could always use him as a plan B? You never told him about me so you could _have_ him?”

Otabek’s shoulders were tense, his shoulders thrown back and his eyes much smaller now that he was _angry_. His cheekbones were red, his lips bit and raw and his posture _domineering_ even when Yuri knew he was spiraling downwards, out of control.

_He would break down._

“It's not like that!” Yuri pushed him aside, the tiny dorm didn't seem capable of _containing_ both of them right there with their blood boiling his high and yet they both knew they were not going anywhere else. They stayed together, inside the little room. “You don’t understand.”

That simple phrase made Otabek purely aghast, eyes blown wide once more before he shook his head. Biting his lip once more, he  turned around and walked to the door.

“I don't want to have this conversation right now.” Beka muttered.

“No. We're having it _now_ before we never do.” Yuri launched himself forward and took Otabek’s hand with his own, pulling him back again. He could’ve been _bigger_ now, but Yuri’s strength was not something to laugh at. He still made his point across, turning him around and battling his stare with his bright green orbs.

Otabek took a deep breath and nodded, fists clenching besides him when he let him go.

“ _Fine_. Are you going to tell me why he wants to have you back?”

Yuri was flushed from both anger and embarrassment.

“I broke up with him before I saw you. And it wasn't only because _you_ were back. It was because _I_ didn't want to hurt him anymore. I needed the distance.”

Otabek ran his hands through his hair.

“That doesn't make any sense. Why would you want to stay with Jean but still leave him the second things get complicated?” He looked disappointed. “You’re not like that.”

“I was tired! I couldn’t be all the time _there_ and started I started having second thoughts about our relationship since I turned him down and I ran away. I left him.”

“It seems like he didn't get that.”

“He did, but he _didn't_ know about you!”

“Because clearly you didn't _think_ it would be important to ever mention me.” Otabek spat. “Why is he still after you?

“He must think he still has a chance, although I can’t think so highly of myself. It’s not like he’s going to beg!”

Otabek laughed without humor, shaking his head and letting his shoulders fall down on frustration.

 _On surrender_.

“You have no idea, do you?” He whispered softly at his feet.

“What?!” Yuri barked.

“You’re one of those persons people would _beg_ to.” His tone was suddenly soft all over again.”You’re the kind of person some would go to war for, the kind sacrifices are made for.” Otabek looked up to him once more. “It’s _obvious_ he doesn’t want to lose you.”

“You’re so fucked up.” Yuri rolled his eyes, not really bothering to reflect on whatever Beka had just said.

“I can’t blame him.” He said then. “ _I_ would beg for you, too.” He cleared his throat and Yuri stared at him with both amazement and confusion on his eyes.

_Could he still feel that way about him?_

“Are you-”

“Why him?” Otabek was once again asking Yuri the hard questions. He was back at his interrogative, at his inquiry on Yuri’s life during his absence. He was still immovable.

“He found me when I needed someone the most.” Yuri replied, chest rising proudly with his uneven breaths.

“ _When_?”

“A year before you left.”

“That _quickly_ , huh?”

Yuri started _fuming_.

“I felt like my life ended the second you _ran away_ from _me_ and now you think it is my fault that I tried to love someone else!” Yuri gripped his hair, pulling it for grounding. “You left me. I wanted somebody to take care of me, not that felt sorry for me and he was there!’

Otabek didn’t even seem to be the person Yuri knew when he spoke back at him.  

He was flexing his arms, back arched and head tilted to the side on an unmistakable combat pose. His eyes were bloodshot, his legs bent slightly and the look on his face _unreadable_. He looked angry but at the same time hopeless, like he couldn’t keep doing any of this, like he was breaking his own heart while listening to Yuri and every piece of it disappeared with every word that fell from his own lips.

“I did not run away from you, Yura. I _had_ to do it!” His exclamation aimed right to Yuri’s soul. “I couldn’t sit here while all those atrocities were happening and I…”

“You were on a _war_ , do you think you and another thousand people could stop people from dying because of their state?!” He shook his head, golden locks slapping his face. “I needed you _here_.”

“I was a dime a dozen mechanic, Yura. I went out to help soldiers and civilians on warfare, I wasn’t going to stop all that shit from happening but I sure as hell helped people who suffered!” Otabek said back, standing up and facing the smaller man with a demanding look, towering over him with sincerity.

“You didn’t even go for the _people_! You went for the money.” Yuri pointed at him and the gesture almost resembled to a stab. “You wanted money and you left me for a couple thousand bucks! Months before we got engaged”

 Otabek ran his hands through his face, almost scratching it with his nails.

“I told you that we would _wait_ before getting married.”

“I was nineteen, and stupid as _fuck_. Do you think I wanted to wait?” Yuri roared. “ For all that I cared I could’ve married you a _day_ or a week before.” He spat. “But I wanted to wait because of my career. And I thought we would make things work out in the meanwhile. And you ran the fuck away the second things got tough.”

“I had to do more for you! You paid the rent on your own, the groceries and sometimes even my tools. I felt _useless_.”

“I did it all in a heartbeat and I would do it _again_ because I loved you and I believed in you, I knew things would take _time_ but you, desperate _fuck_ , couldn’t be patient.” His tone was accusatory but his face was one who didn’t understand the situation. “Why the _army_ and not some office job? Something at a store? Somewhere you wouldn’t have your blood spilled.”

“Yura, it was _you_ who made me go. The money was good, _yes_. I could not provide for you at the workshop and I had, I _really_ had to make myself worthy of you. I had to grow, to show you how much I care about you, _us_ and our future.”

“But you _had_!”

“I had to prove myself a man.” He looked over his shoulder as he said this, almost as if he didn’t want to see Yuri. “And I couldn’t give you what you deserved, but it seems like Jean did.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and turned around, giving his back to Otabek. He followed him and pressed his body against Yuri’s back, hands landing on his hips when he spoke, then.

 “Do you think that’s why I dated him?” Yuri’s voice was bitter, broken. “For the _money_? The business.”

“He had what I would never have.” Otabek muttered.

 “That’s bullshit.” Yuri pushed him with his shoulders as he looked back at him, left hand grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look straight into his eyes. “I chose you from fucking high school, _Altin_. I chose you even when you were nothing, when we didn’t have anything and I still choose you after you dropped out of college.” He snapped. “I kept choosing you _every_ day, on that stretcher, when you left your family, when you spent every penny you had on that garage. I wanted you every day.”

He let go of him, but his own eyes had him frozen in place.

_Yuri was so powerful._

“You didn’t need to show me anything, you already _had_ me! There was a ring right here.” He raised his left, fourth finger. “You did not have to do shit but _stay_ with me!” His hands darted to his lithe chest, almost ripping the shirt as he pulled the chain with that same ring on it. “And you _know_ it! But you went and I stayed, I _waited_. I waited forever!”

“Yura…”

“Then I started getting tired. I never lost hope; I knew you would come back even if your letters stopped because I can bet my entire soul that I wrote to you every week of my damn life.”

Yuri knelt down besides his bed and pulled the boxes of slippers and costumes that were filled with letters in envelopes and stamps. Two, four, five boxes _overflowing_ with paper that Yuri threw all over the bed and the floor. At Otabek, at the door and even a couple fell from the window that had been opened, soaking the desk.

They flew in the air and caused a thundering sound from the flutter of the paper, almost breaking the hostile environment from their fight. They suspended on the air for seconds before Otabek snapped out of the illusion of being able to read _all_ of them.

_What would they say?_

“I _never_ stopped writing.”

“You should’ve sent them.” Beka said.

Yuri shook his head.

“I knew you were coming back but I did not know when or how so I became weaker and Jean, Jean _-Jacques_ was there, he found me and did not ask anything and he just loved me. And I loved him… and I stopped sending the letters because it was wrong and I didn't want to feel like I was holding onto something _already dead_.”

“You… you _love_ him?” Was the only question that left Otabek's lips. 

“Not like I loved you, never like I love _you_.” He wasn’t even crying. He felt too numb to even shed tears. “But I do. I love him.”

As Otabek’s turn to give him his back, now.

“I knew I was _stupid_ but not enough to think you would’ve been waiting for me all this time.”

“I waited for you. But I couldn’t do it alone…” Yuri whispered. “We got attached, I never found the courage to leave him and I ended up loving him. I ended up wanting to always be with him.”

Otabek sighed.

“Do you still feel this way?”

Yuri didn’t answer.

“Do you miss him?”

_Otabek knew his silence was already an answer._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

_Yuri doesn't even remember the day Otabek left._

 

 **-** **♡** **-**

 

The halls to the dorm were ways incredibly silent past eight. The lights were low and the air conditioner at its maximum, or minimum, depending on the weather. No one passed through them and the dorms kept their doors closed for most of the nights. No one made a sound, no one dared to move beyond their limits and it was only one Yuri Plisetsky who spent his most restless nights on them.

It had been less than a month since he last saw Otabek, when he left him on his dorm after their fight over _Jean_ , and ever since then, every day, he would spend his nights stretching on the hallways on every imaginable way to pass the hours and force his body to exertion so he could sleep. It was something he hadn’t been doing lately, but the nervousness of _not_ seeing Otabek now drove him just crazy and he needed to push his body beyond his limits just to feel like he could rest for the night. He didn’t want to think of him, he didn’t want to _dream_ of him. So he always stayed on them hallways.

 _Stop thinking_.

The carpet was never too hot and the rug burn was always worth it once he finished his stretching, even if it left his skin raw and sensitive. But for Yuri it was almost as if he wanted to feel it like that, rough and cruel on its bite to the soft and milky muscles, to drive his thoughts away from the image of Otabek leaving without saying a thing.

Yuri pressed his pelvis against the wall with the push of his waist, face to the wall and legs widely spread to each of his sides and hands on the floor. With the thrust if his hips, trying to feel a better stretch, the carpet stung on his thighs with every little motion before he could turn and do the same, the other way around.

Yuri huffed through the pain, feeling his back crack as the rain kept pouring outside the dorms. Soon enough, summer would be over and Yuri would have to start his national tour before coming back for the Christmas specials. He would be gone for two full months, away from Jean and Otabek and he hadn’t _heard_ from any of them since his recital.  

He pushed once more.

_Why would they look for him?_

Otabek left as soon as he could, leaving nothing but a bitter taste in Yuri's mouth after he gathered Yuri's letters one by one and had them saved in a big black plastic bag from the desk near the bed. He didn't say a thing and neither did Yuri once he finished, taking with him the huge bag as he slammed the door closed.

He left his blazer behind and Yuri still wore it every night, thinking of every word he had said and how Otabek answered to them when he waited for sleep to pull him into its comforting arms.

Yuri bit his lip, standing up to throw his shoulder overhead to push it down as he stared at his feet.

As for Jean, he had sent Yuri a new, fresh bouquet of sunflowers the next morning with nothing but a little ‘ _I am sorry_ ’ note to his doorstep. And that had been it. Yuri still had the withered flowers over his desk, the one he had to change since the rain ruined the other one so many nights ago, because he couldn’t dare to get rid of Jean’s last _sign_ _of_ _life_.

Bending totally over his own body, Yuri groaned and took a deep breath. He would leave in three days exactly and no one he knew, but Yuuri, would stay around him for ten weeks where he had nothing to get his job done.

Lilia had said his dancing was different now that Otabek was back, but how would it be now that they haven’t seen each other? He knew his choreographies, his sets and every single dancing step for this tour, he knows the songs like the back of his hand and every sequence remains at the top of his head. He hadn’t been doing nothing but _numbly_ dancing his sorrows away for days and it all showed on his level of preparation for the season. But how would his interpretations show to the public once he’s alone in the stage?

He got up, the blood rushing from his head down to his body as he eased out his breathing once more and walked slowly the set of stairs to his bedroom. Yuri couldn’t help but _wonder_ what would Lilia say if she saw him right now, gliding on his slippers through his _codas_ and _adagios_ with not much on his face but the fake smile he had been used to wear for the past fifteen years.

_She would be disappointed._

There was nothing he loved more than dancing; it was a habit he had deeply engrained in his body. But sometimes it was a burden to move all of your body when you felt like your heart alone weighed more than a thousand pounds.

Yuri made it to his room, closing the door behind him as he started to gather his things for his shower. He ignored Otabek’s blazer for once and went into his closet to get a pair of fresh pajamas and a towel. Searching for his briefs, Yuri’s untouched cellphone rang over his desk with the same little song he had kept for five years.

He ignored it.

Once he had his things, Yuri walked to the door when the phone rang once more. Looking over it, he realized he knew the number even if it was not registered. Somehow, he felt like the voice on the other side of the line would be well-known.

But _whose_ would it be?

He kind of expected them would call, but now that there was a possibility one of them _did_ , he didn’t want to answer. .

Maybe it was because he was _afraid_. Or maybe because he had caused enough damage to keep messing things up like this and his own head told him _not_ to pick up or hell would break lose.

 _Once more_.

The ringtone ended but the phone didn't stay in silence much long after that. It buzzed again and Yuri only stared at it through the stupid rock song it sounded.

He _couldn't_ answer.

Yuri knew he had no right over it, that anything he was going to be told on that call would probably be anything that he deserved and that there was nothing for him to do but _listen_. He felt like he didn’t have the right to speak, to actually answer to any voice that would be waiting on the line. Yuri thought that, whatever happened once he picked up, it wasn’t on him to decide what would happen after. He couldn’t answer because he couldn’t allow himself to even _hear_ them. He couldn’t answer because he didn’t deserve that kind of privilege.

_And yet he did._

Because there wasn’t a thing he wanted more.

Right when the fifth tone went off, Yuri slid the incoming call icon and pressed the device against his ear.

“ _Yuri_.”  

“Jean?” His tone was surprised, but not disappointed.

There was a relieved sigh on the other side of the line.

“Chaton, _are you at your place_?” Yuri whispered his confirmation. “ _I'll be there in ten_.”

He lifted his face, watching the death sunflowers and Otabek’s blazer on his bed. There was nothing wrong with his dorm but somehow he felt like there was still a lingering presence he couldn’t name but could fee, uncomfortably over his head, that told him _not_ to let anyone inside until if felt like he belonged there once more. It was like he couldn’t stand anyone’s presence on it but his own.

Yuri shook his head before answering with his voice.

“No.” He mumbled. “I'm going to yours.” He took Otabek’s blazer and hanged it on his closet, putting on the first sweat ensemble he found as he ignored Jean’s pleadings for him to take a cab or wait for his chauffeur. “See you in a sec.”

He hung up before staring at his reflection on the mirror over the door. He looked positively _murderous_ but he felt soft and warm. A rush of excitement that bubbled through his veins because he _wanted_ to see Jean.

For someone who rarely felt something, feeling too much, just like that, was dangerous.

_Yuri was dangerous._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Much, much love for everyone dropping their kudos ♡ Please let me know what you think of this so far down in the comments, I'd love to know all of it ! ! 
> 
> See you around, hope you liked this one! ♡


	8. Salted Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Habits die hard, the good and the bad.   
> Some are deeper, others are just impossible to let go.   
> Jean is not an habit, but Yuri coming back to him is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me forever to write this, now I have birthed this ferOCITY  
> Hope you enjoy it, for I have had tons of fun writing this!   
> smut and a lot of Pliroy ahead, please let me know what you think!

Soaked through his clothes, Yuri rang the doorbell to Jean's apartment.

His hand was shaking as he pressed the button to JJ’s place, the rain was still thundering behind him and he even felt the heavy rush of a bus passing by down the street. He shivered. What was Yuri doing there? He didn't really _know_ , somehow he felt like he was mostly throwing one shot at the dark while waiting for his past lover to open the door. He felt like he couldn't breathe and that the only thing capable of getting rid of the pressing on his chest and the choking hold in his neck would be the sight of Jean once again.

He needed to do things right, he kept telling to himself.

So why was he _there_?

Breathing in heavy pants, the door to the apartment building opened with a sharp slide of iron against the marble tile. Yuri lifted his gaze in panic and stared at the man in the frame.

“What were you _thinking_?” Jean welcomed him with a towel, hugging him immediately with the cloth and pulling Yuri inside the lobby. Inside was warm and dry, and Yuri immediately sneezed as he felt the sudden change of temperature.

“I was going crazy. Couldn't wait a second longer alone.” He mumbled against Jean's shirt, as he rubbed the thick material all over his wet limbs.

“You are already crazy, _Minou_.” He rubbed Yuri's face and kissed his forehead afterwards. “Running all the way from your place to here?” He shook his head. “You're going to get ill.”

“I'm wetting your shirt, sorry.” Yuri muttered in answer, ignoring Jean’s worry and the glare on his eyes as he bit down his lip. JJ looked so good on jeans and dress shirt it should be illegal, even when his hair messy, round-framed glasses and the look of utter _preoccupation_ , he was still gorgeous.

Yuri pulled his gaze from Jean’s eyes, flushing as realized what he was thinking.

“It's fine. I don't care.” He bowed his head once more Jean and tried to find Yuri's gaze, but he hid his face on his chest and Jean bit back a smile. “Please tell me you're fine.”

_He was not going to lie._

“I'm not.” Jean gave a sharp inhale and repressed a grunt that wanted to make it through his throat. Instead he hugged him harder and kissed the top of his head, Yuri felt immediately thankful.

“C’mon. We’re going to make a mess here.” JJ said then, pulling Yuri from his arms to the lift and pressing the button to his place as soon as the doors were closed.

Still shaking, from nervousness and cold, Yuri rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath of air when he felt Jean taking his hand from underneath the towel. He felt totally safe and sound once the gesture was consumed, the back of his hand caressed carefully by an equally anxious thumb that pressed the supple skin in circling motions. Yuri squeezed JJ and he returned the action, almost creating a silent bridge of understanding when doing so. 

“I'm so, _so_ sorry for what happened the other day.” The doors parted with a loud ‘ding’ before Jean spoke. Yuri shook his head but he kept talking. “I shouldn't have done any of that. I shouldn't have bothered you.”

The older one wasn’t looking at Yuri as he pulled him closer to his place, but his words were meaningful enough to allow the dancer to _know_ he meant every single word he was saying. It was uncomfortable, for it was a delicate subject, but they were calm and sober enough to comprehend that it needed to be addressed. To talk about it before it was to late, to clear the fog from each other’s minds. They wanted, and needed, to make things fine between them once again.

 _To start somewhere_.

“I should've mentioned Otabek sooner, then.” The grip on his hand turned rougher for a second at the mention of the soldier. Yuri bit his lip as he blamed himself for it, thought he knew what he was doing. “I was stupid for hiding it from you.”

Jean didn't say anything once they were inside his place.

“Why did you wanted to see me?” Jean asked when the door was closed.

“You called me.” Yuri said, lifting up his gaze and biting the inside of his cheek when Jean pulled the glasses up on his head. He blushed before trying to look elsewhere.   

“ _No_.” He cleared his throat. “I mean I did, but you were the one who said yes. You still came running through the night, and the storm, for me. You could've stayed at home, with _him_ …” His look turned hard for a second.

“I’m not living with him or anything.” Yuri mentioned, taken back by the suggestion.

Jean, for some reason, looked like he didn’t believe him. But he pushed aside the feeling of doubt and licked his lips as he thought. Yuri waited.

“Was it because you were _alone_?” Yuri muttered a negation. “Then _why_ are you here? I called because I wanted to see you, but now I need to know why _you_ wanted to see me too?”

“I still love you.” Yuri mumbled, looking straight into his blue eyes.

Jean took a step back, letting go of his hand as a scared, almost _horrified_ look assaulted his usually calm features.

“That's not fair.” He barked, turning aggressive to hide his heartbreak.

“I know, I hate that I am like this. But I _do_.” Yuri rubbed his eyes with his hands, trying to dry invisible tears. “It’s just… complex.”

“I can tell.” Jean breathed heavily, crossing his arms over his chest. “You love me but not enough to marry me, since you love someone else who had been absent from your life the last five years.”

Yuri tensed his shoulders.

“I couldn’t marry you because I was already engaged…”

 _A bomb falling from the air_.

Yuri felt like _the world_ had been lifted off from his shoulders, he suddenly felt an ease to breathe that wasn’t there before and his lungs were filled to the brim with something that was purer, lighter than air itself. His vision was cleared, the knots on his throat undone and the tears he felt like spilling on any second were sucked and dried by the simple relief of saying something so liberating it felt like confessing his worst sin.

Jean, on the other hand, looked downright _devastated_.

“You were _engaged_ and you still dated me?” He breathed out, unbelievingly. “For _three_ years?”

Yuri hugged his body tighter through the towel.

“Listen, I was engaged _only_ because I never broke the compromise with Otabek. Yet we were _nothing_ by the time he left. A part of me only kept the ring and the promise on my head because it was the only thing convincing me that he was still _alive_.” His glare never faltered. “It was something that wasn’t even discussed, I only said I would wait for him but I never mentioned I wouldn’t do it alone.”

“Does compromise mean _anything_ to you?” Jean asked bitterly. “I would’ve _never_ approached you if I knew you were taken.”

“He could’ve died any time and I would’ve never known.” Yuri said, headstrong. “I couldn’t wait by myself. How could I? You know how hurt I was, and you stayed by my side and took care of me. I fell immediately, but I never expected you would want to marry me.”

Jean rolled his eyes.

“You’re wonderful, intelligent, caring and drop-dead gorgeous. After one year I was already _thinking_ about it, then I needed another one to gather up the courage and, _fuck_ , then it became the only thing I wanted.” His words were touching, but his face was filled with _blame_. “You were the first person in forever that made me feel like I had to make an actual effort, that I could lose if I wasn’t careful. You were worth every fight I had to put up with.  But I didn’t know you had your heart somewhere else. And it was because you never _told_ me.”

Yuri sniffled, choosing his next words carefully.

 _This is the way it was supposed to go_.

“Listen to me.” He commanded, but his manner was needful. “I was _not_ with Otabek when he left, we were not a couple. The reason I didn’t marry you was not only because I had a _dubious_ compromise with him, but because it wasn’t fair to either of you. If he thought we were still engaged or not, I don’t know but I wasn’t going to compromise to anyone else because I could’ve hurt him, and you. Or anyone else who would’ve dared to ask.”

Jean huffed, but kept listening.

“Do you know what I mean?” He asked, tilting his head as he said this. “I said no because I didn’t know where I stood. I didn’t know _anything_. And, to this day, I don’t know. Otabek has not mentioned it and neither have I. And, for the record, I’m not even _with him_ right now.”

“Are you single, then?” JJ’s eyes sparked with interest, suddenly conveying certain curiosity from the depths of his anger.

Yuri nodded.

“Whatever happens, _happens_. But that doesn’t mean I belong to the one it occurred with.”

Jean almost looked like he wanted to smile, his lips twitched and the spark on his eyes shone with brighter intensity. He recognized the Yuri he fell in love with on those words, finding him from the shadows where he only lurked whenever he felt fulfilled enough to let his true self flow; the one who seemed to be angry at the world but only because he understood it perfectly, like no one else. The one who comprehended everyone else and it made him _mad_ for he, sometimes, couldn’t do anything to help them.  

“I will only ask this then…” He unfolded his arms and put his hand son his hips, he looked like he was bracing himself for anything that could happen after Yuri’s answer. “When you say you love me, do you mean it?”

Yuri answered without even thinking.

“With all of myself, and no doubt.” He stated.

“But you also love Otabek.” Yuri nodded. “And you’re going to marry him?”

He shrugged and Jean bit his lip.

“Are you going to marry me?” His tone was trembling.

“As I have told you, I don’t know now.” Yuri pressed his words past his lips. “I haven’t talked about it with neither of you, and so far I don’t even consider myself engaged to no one.”

He unzipped his jacket, pulling down the training shirt and showing his neck. For the first time in five years, he _wasn’t_ wearing the necklace with the engagement ring.

“You have to choose.” JJ said, closing his eyes and turning around, taking another towel from the armrest of a chair near the dining table as he breathed in the image of Yuri’s bare neck.

“Not now.” Yuri answered, making the other one turn back.

“ _Pardon_?”

“Otabek hates me right now. And you… you probably do, too.” Yuri wondered if whatever he had said still mattered, because he hadn’t thought if Jean loved him back, still. “I mean, I don’t need to make a decision right now, if you don’t want to either.”

Jean smiled sadly at the floor and reached for Yuri once more, taking off the damp towel from his body to wrap him with the dry one. They shared a look that said more than all their fight had, moments before.

“I only miss you.” He took the band from Yuri's head and slid it through his hair until it fell on the floor, threading his fingers through the strands of gold he untangled them slowly as Yuri closed his eyes and breathed through his nose. The process was slow and Jean, as he knew, took his time with every single pale thread before moving on to the next. He didn't say a thing and Yuri also remained in silence. They stood there, Jean with his elbows over Yuri's shoulders and Yuri with his arms around Jean's waist, with rain and thunderbolt ringing outside, mingling along with the roar of the streets and Yuri's heavy pants.

_He still wasn't calm._

“Can I ask you something, now?” Jean hummed. “Why did you want to see me?”

“I’ve told you, I miss you terribly.”

Yuri couldn’t hold back his next question, there was still a lot he needed to know to fully find peace. Admitting the engagement had only been the beginning.

“Do you _still_ love me?”

“You know I do.”

“ _Say it_.” Yuri demanded.

“I love you.” Jean chuckled and stressed his words with a kiss on top of Yuri’s head.

That had been the next big step.

“What are you going to do?” Jean asked, still brushing Yuri’s hair with his lips glued to the other.

 _What was he going to do now_?

That was one hell of a question.

Yet, Yuri looked up and found Jean looking back with the same love he had been watching him for three years. Like nothing had changed, like there was still hope for them, together, as one. That was what made him realize not everything was lost, that he could wait for tomorrow and only act on those 24 hours until they ran out, and the process could repeat itself as long as he allowed it. Yuri could live by the day if he wanted it, and maybe he needed it.

He had to stop thinking about the bigger picture for a _second_.

“I don't know.” He admitted.

And even if Yuri felt like he could break down once more, he also thought it was no use on it. He already cried, he already screamed. He had done it all, lost it all. Right now he only wanted to feel love and _be_ loved, he wanted to set everything aside and surrender to the simplicity of being with Jean once more.

When that were over, he would figure out what to do next.

For now, he would like to pretend Otabek wasn't back, that Jean never asked him marriage. Yuri wanted to act as if nothing had ever changed, as if he were to go and take a shower before dinner to then go to bed and make love to Jean until he fell asleep in his arms to wait for the new sunrise. He wanted to act like everything, including himself, was the same before everything changed for good or bad. Yuri had that power, tonight.

 _He wanted to use that power_.  

“You don't have to, yet.” Jean whispered, reassuring him without knowing. “C'mon, let's get you in the tub.”

Yuri nodded and allowed himself to be dragged into the stairs, where he climbed up until he reached Jean's bedroom.

“I was worried for you. You didn't even let me go get you.” Yuri snorted, mocking him with no words. “I will feel horrible if you get sick, stop it.”

“I won't.” Yuri grumbled, smiling slightly and nudging Jean with his elbow like he was jokingly fighting. Like he used to, without mentioning what was he referring to.

“Let's see tomorrow.” Jean snickered and guided him to the bathroom, Yuri let him to hold his hand as he pushed the door to the inside of it where sat down on the toilet as soon as he could while JJ had the hot water running. “How you're doing?”

Yuri shrugged.

“ _Oui_. I supposed so.” Jean opened a drawer below the sink and grabbed a jar with a black label and violet petals inside along with a little white box. “Lavender and salt is still okay?” Yuri nodded. “ _'Kay_.”

There was still some kind of spell casted over them, it had Yuri and Jean entranced on both even when they weren't touching each other. Things were silent, still, nearly awkward but still clear enough to keep them at the verge of comfort.

Yuri watched Jean stripping of his shirt before he grabbed the containers and put perfectly measured amounts on the tub while water still ran. The air was suddenly filled with a floral essence and the silence was killed by the sizzling of the salt as it bubbled through the tub. Jean turned the water off and offered a hand to Yuri, who had been taking off his sweats and shirt as he watched the older man.

“Get in with me.” Yuri mumbled, not touching him yet.

Jean bit his lip.

“I don't think that's a very good idea, _mon beau_.”

Yuri stood up, approaching him.

“Please.” He insisted, taking his hands before kissing the back of them.

Jean has never been a man who needed to be asked twice.

_Not when it came to Yuri._

“Sure…” He sighed, nodding. He got rid of his undershirt, along with his trousers and shoes and socks. He kept his briefs on and dipped into the hot water with a little uncomfortable gesture. “This is too hot.”

Yuri bit back a laugh and waited for him to be sitting fully down on the porcelain bottom before he got closer, stepping out of his shoes. He followed him to the water not a second before, smiling sincerely at him when doing so. He sank down, Jean’s hands holding him by the ribs as soon as he could and Yuri laid all of his weight on JJ's body, closing his eyes and letting himself drift off to his dreams where nothing had ever changed.

If he tried hard enough, this was just another week night.

So he pretended it was.

_Jean would take care of him._

**-** **♡** **-**

Jean never asked the ring, he just thought Yuri liked beautiful with jewelry on. So much he bought him a lot of it. _Constantly_. JJ never asked about the letters he wrote, why he spent all that time on his desk with paper sheets all over the place and old Polaroids he never got to see. Jean never asked about the old department he went back to, the one he still paid the rent for when he didn't even live there anymore. JJ just didn’t seem like one to wonder about the past, to make pointless questions.

_Jean never asked._

Yuri always thought it was because he wanted to give him space, because they'd just met and there were _boundaries_. It had to do with time, with places, with the fact that they had been dating for a month when they started to see each other more and more, seeking out desperately for touch and kisses that felt endless. Yuri just imagined that was who he was, one to stay out of other’s people’s business and lives when it didn’t include him, to keep himself at check on the margins just in case.

_And he was._

But time went _on_ , like it always does, and after a year he still _didn't_ ask. He never did. Not about the trips to the post office and the late night rehearsals. Nor he doubted Yuri and his silences, his random outbursts of anger and the way he cried whenever he heard army stories or the way he smiled at himself with the roar of a motorcycle. He didn’t ask even when Yuri seemed like he wanted to scream, like he had a thousand and one things to say that hung silent on his lips.  

Jean never asked.

 _So Yuri was never heard_.

He was only held, arms strong and heartbeat steady for him to rely on every time he felt like crying. JJ only smiled at him, kindly and warm was Yuri came back to reality, eventually. To the present where he had nothing but memories and an unbearable heartache. He never said anything because he didn't need to, he only wanted the best for Yuri and that was provided by his love and support, which he gave unconditionally. JJ provided what Yuri needed the most, what he wanted when he had to have it with such an ability to ease the wildest of the pain that came in relentless waves of nostalgia that Yuri figured out he didn’t want to know.

Otherwise he would’ve already said otherwise.

If he _didn't_ ask, Yuri never said anything.

_Sometimes secrets aren't the ones to blame._

**-** **♡** **-**

Yuri woke up in Jean's bed later that evening, covered in warm blankets and to the sound of the rain still thundering outside.

“Yuri.” He was greeted by JJ on a chair near him, smiling and stretching to sit beside him on the bed, dropping his book on the nightstand. “Hey.”

Yuri smiled too, reaching for his hand through the sheets.

“Hey.” He muttered.

“You feel better?” Yuri nodded. “Do you need something? Do you want to eat anything?”

Yuri shrugged, looking down on his body to find himself perfectly dried and snuggled on one of Jean’s old varsity sweatshirts and a pair of shorts that used to be his. He felt warm, knowing he had on also fresh underwear and knee-high socks that comforted him almost as much as Jean’s touch.

“I could use a glass of water.” Jean nodded moments before and got abruptly up, walking to the door hurriedly and disappearing as soon as he could into the darkness of the hallway.

Yuri waited, feeling like he should get going. But JJ was back as soon as he left and didn't allow Yuri to think of anything else but himself, eyes bright and smile slight crooked when he extended the glass.

“I also got you this.” He showed him a bowl of berries. “You must be starving.”

Yuri didn't say much besides a murmur of his thankfulness, sipping the water and biting a sliced strawberry to break eye contact with the other man, blushing when he saw the look on Jean’s eyes.

“Do you think you can take me to my place?” Yuri whispered after swallowing a cherry, seconds of silence between the first fruit and this one.

“Do you want to leave?” Jean wondered, taken back by the question.

“It's getting late.” Was Yuri’s answer.

“That's not what I asked.”

“I don't want to bother you.”

“You won't.” Jean took the bowl from his lap and picked the biggest of the blackberries between his fingers as he looked at Yuri. “I'd love it if you stayed.  I don't want you to be alone right now; I want to take care of you.”

Yuri didn't say anything.

“But only if you let me.” Pressing the small fruit against his mouth, Yuri parted his lips and opened it slightly to pick the berry between his teeth with a small smile.

He knew he was right, besides he only felt like he shouldn’t be there since he randomly felt like an intrusion for abusing of Jean’s hospitality. He didn’t expect to practically pass out and make JJ drag him out from the tub to dry and dress him, so Yuri thought he had already become a nuisance. But now that he was awake and saw how much Jean wanted him to stay as much as Yuri wanted to when he rang on his door, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to spend the night.

Jean was safe, for now.

 _And he was the only thing he wanted_.

Even if he was chewing, he smiled slightly as and let his rose-tainted teeth peek through his lips, when nodding happily. There was something between them that was familiar and safe, somehow comfortable on its normalcy that made Yuri crave for that feeling of some, undivided, calm. Like it had to do with routine, one always ends up missing it when they realize how hard it is to create a new one.

Yet their love wasn’t only routinely.

Jean smiled too, big and lovely. The expression on his face from hours ago suddenly disappeared in the thin air, replaced by the same joy Yuri felt. If he ever needed some confirmation, that was it. Once they pushed their past encounter behind them, everything could be like it used to even if only for a few hours.

_Yuri could stay the night._

Sinking down on the pillows, Yuri hugged the comforter as Jean kept feeding him his berries; at the same time he told him about his latest personal updates. He told him about work and dinner, the music he had been listening to and the newest tattoo design he wanted up in his back. Showing him the pictures of the draft, Yuri nodded his encouragement while suckling on a raspberry. He also saw a pair of selfies from his most recent business trip and the mirror pic that featured his new suit he got in Cobalt blue that he wanted to wear on the gala next month. He asked Yuri if he would come with him and the dancer reminded him about his National tour starting in a couple of days, he wouldn't even be on their side of the country by the dinner's date.

“I just miss you so much.” Jean admitted once Yuri had finished eating, putting the bowl over the book. “I _really_ wish you could stay longer.”

Yuri sighed.

“We have tonight, okay?” JJ frowned. “Let's focus on tonight.”

Yuri leaned on and kissed his forehead, trying to sooth the wrinkled forming from where he scowled. He rubbed his eyes and got up, walking slowly to his turntable near the T.V to pull out a huge vinyl from its case; like he was trying to find some distraction.

“Yeah, of course.” He said later as he put on the record, playing his favorite song as soon as he could. He walked over to Yuri as the first notes came by and pulled him to his arms. “May I have this one dance, then?”

Yuri rolled his eyes and nodded, climbing from the bed to jump into Jean’s feat lightly.

“Just this one.” He warned him, even if he was not serious at all.

“Wouldn't ask for more.”

And so they danced.

Though it took not much more than the first three or so phrases from the song for JJ to kiss Yuri, slowly but surely once he reached for his pink, trembling lips while they swayed to one simple beat, it felt like a _first_.

The music flowed through the room; deep, mellow beats going through their bodies as they kept kissing and turning on their feet. Jean held Yuri by the waist with his two hands gripping his flesh as the younger tied his own behind JJ's neck. They didn't say much whenever they split for air, only breathing heavily before diving once more into each other's bodies; they just wanted, and _needed_ to feel themselves in the middle of the night even when it was probable that it would be the last time in a long, _long_ while.

“I don't want to lose you.” Jean muttered after a while, pressing Yuri harder against himself as the song picked up on the bridge.

“You won't.” Yuri assured him in less than a heartbeat.

“Are you kidding?” He stared into Yuri's orbs, in perfect sync with the music. “I _saw_ the way he looks at you. How _he_ ran after you… I can't compete against him. Against _that_.”

Yuri shook his head.

“I don't know what will happen between us. With him, with _you_.” He sighed. “Everything is a mess.”

“I don’t want this to feel like a goodbye.” Jean kissed his temple before going into his lips once more.

“It’s not.” Yuri said between kisses. “Everything will be alright.”

“Then let me have you _tonight_.” His tone was pleading, tongue licking Yuri’s upper lip carefully. “Tomorrow, and the day after that. Let's have what he had before, once you go on your own and I'll never even call.” He cupped his face, touching their foreheads together. “ _Please_.”

It was the _only_ thing he really wanted to hear then, he realized.  How could Yuri say no?

“Okay.” He whispered, agreeing with a fluttering laughter when they touched each other’s lips once more.

Jean picked him up from his waist, smile blinding as they turned on their feet two times with soft laughter and small gasps of excitement. Yuri hid his face on JJ’s neck and kissed it with tenderness.

It was so normal, so _right_ to do so when hours ago he felt so helpless. Yuri knew it was like playing with fire, he still had so much questions unanswered and words unsaid that could hurt anyone who wasn’t careful around them… But he didn´t dare to let this go to waste. It was just what he had to have before leaving for days where his only company would be Potya and his own thoughts. After all, this had been what kept him so happy for three full years.

He could use a little bit of _light_ in his life, for now.

“There wasn't a day that I didn't think about you.” Jean muttered once Yuri was back on the floor. “I always wondered if you hated me.”

“I didn't.”

“But I was so scared that you did.” He breathed heavily and pulled Yuri into the bed, laying down side to side as the song died. “I was an _idiot_ and I thought I had lost you forever.”

“I'm here, JJ.” Yuri reassured him, turning on his side to tangle their legs together. “It doesn't matter.”

“I wish I would've never asked you to marry me.”

“Don't say that.”

“But I love you so much I couldn't think of anything else. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Yuri looked at him.

“You- _you_ said you still love me.” He mentioned, doubtful. “Right?”

“With all my heart, _Minou_.” He kissed his hands, warming them up instantly. “You said you do, too”

Yuri nodded.

“I can't stop loving you.” He admitted and Jean laughed, eyes closing with giddiness as he held Yuri closer to him.

“Ah, _Mon trésor_ , you have given me hope.” Yuri looked at him with a question still lingering in his eyes. “Now I'm not letting you go so easily.” He smiled warmly and kissed his cheek. “I'm not giving you up without a fight.”

Somehow, Yuri felt relieved after that statement. He had been fighting his whole life that somehow it felt nice for him to have someone doing the same.  

Yuri wanted to feel worthy of something.

_Even if he didn't deserve it._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

_September 1st._

**Beka;**

I know it's been one month since I last wrote you, I'm really sorry. I was busy with rehearsals.

I've come to find that with every letter I write, the more complicated words are for me to get out. I wish I had the ease that you do, every time I read your letters I feel like you're right next to me and it hurts me to think that maybe you can't picture me there, with you. I promise I’m doing my best. _I love you._

How's everything? How are you?

I want to hear more about you even if I know that you don't have the time to write back, sorry if I make a lot of questions. I just miss you so much, my love, and I wish there was an easier way for us to communicate.

Anyways. Time has passed by so quickly I'm surprised it'll soon be a year since you went abroad. I want you back but I know I have to wait, I just think it’s crazy how fast this has all been. The only thing that keeps me from falling into the pit are your letters and the pictures. I’ll never get tired of seeing you, so I have to say how much I appreciate your effort to make me happy with those little details. _I love you._

Here the city cries everyday as summer comes to an end, the rain is unstoppable and it makes a lot of sound in the night; I can barely sleep. There are very few days where the sun's out and they make me miss you even more. It’s like you took it on your backpack when you left.

I'm about to start my new term, this year I have a lot of interesting classes and I have e Lilia as my choreographer. I'm very excited. But I don't know what to do without you. It's like you've been away for forever and the more days I count down the more I feel like I have to wait through. I’m running out of patience, _I love you_.

I wished I could see you again right now.

Yuuri and Leo send their love and I do too. We all hope you're doing okay but there's no one like me that hopes for you to stay alive. Please be careful.

I pray for you every night.

Sending a thousand kisses,

 **Yuri**.

_p.s. I will always love you._

 

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuri woke up right at seven in the morning with Jean kissing the whole expanse of his back. The image was so familiar to one from the past it made him smile instinctively.  

“ _Bonjour_ , _mon beau_.” Jean whispered to his neck, as Yuri turned around and hugged him from the waist.

“Hello there.” Yuri kissed him on his lips, ignoring the sting of morning breatj coming from their mouths.

“I dreamed of you.” Jean answered, like it was nothing, with a voice deeply stained of raw want. “And I woke up like this.”

He took Yuri's hands and guided him to his chest, where his heart was beating crazily against his flesh. Yuri's breath hitched and he smiled wickedly as his hand slid down under to his navel. He bit his lip.

 “Can I?” Yuri asked, trembling only from the thrill of it all.

Jean, who had been kissing his neck, nodded with a groan.

Yuri took not much time on gliding the boxers down until they laid on top of Jean's knees, grabbing his length with a shaky hand before steadying his grip over it. Jean huffed deeply and bit Yuri’s earlobe before sucking at it.

“It’s been too fucking long.” He complained. Yet he sounded relieved.

Yuri kissed his shoulder and pumped a few times while moaning through his teeth, as JJ went down and ceased kissing his neck and jaw like his life was on it, and the younger appreciated the simple fact that he seemed _unable_ to withdraw from his skin. Like it was sweet or addictive, his lips never parted ways from his body. Yuri raised his hips and pressed them flush against Jean's and his on hand, rubbing himself with eagerness when JJ licked his jaw. He moaned and kept pushing his center, watching JJ low down to kiss his neck with hooded eyes.  Yuri breathed heavily and pushed his thumb over Jean's slit, ripping a high pitched moan from JJ's lips before he bit down on Yuri's shoulder, causing his body to jerk up in _need_.

“No marks.” He said with a broken sob. “Costume’s not covering it.”

JJ laughed slightly and nodded before going down on his body. He peeled off the light shirt from his body and proceeded to kiss his chest and nipples with soft blows from his mouth. Yuri trembled when he bit a rose bud and released it before he could pull him up to his lips once more.

He was so, so good.

“Turn me over.” Yuri indicated with a raspy voice, allowing Jean to immediately do as asked. The strong motion tightened the coiling not at the pit of Yuri’s stomach.  

“What do _you_ want?” Jean asked, his tone still soft as his kisses became rougher on the lower part of Yuri's back.

His hands trembled when he hooked his thumbs on the waist of the shorts he was wearing, pulling them down along with the briefs as he propped his hips up. With a swift, flexible motion he dropped them to the floor and opened his legs on a very direct and inviting manner. His own erection hung heavy and neglected at his center and his whole groin which remained pink from his grinding on Jean.

He saw him with hungry eyes, pupils blown out wide with lust and want. JJ licked his lips, he understood perfectly.

Yuri arched his back even more, asking without a word for what he felt _urgent_.

Jean kissed his back, licking stripes with his tongue and nibbling at the muscle with his teeth until he was mouthing at the expanse of his ass. Yuri groaned against a pillow and his thighs shook uncontrollably. His skin was just as toned as the rest of his body and the biting was just too _much_ when it left pink prints behind the mouth who kept teasing him endlessly. Yuri sobbed and Jean tasted the raw skin over the hickeys he caused, whispering sweet words in French that had him trembling for what his life was worth.

 _Je t’aime_.

Yuri rocked his hips and JJ took it like a _king_ , smiling against the round flesh and nodding whenever he heard the younger moaning out his encouragement. Jean slid his hands around his waist and groped at the soft sides and pliable, thin rolls that Yuri _fucking hated_ but JJ made them feel _precious_. Quickly, he grabbed the lube from the desk besides the bed, much to the other’s dismay, and kissed Yuri on the mouth as soon as he was back to ease his pain. Moving himself to face him, Jean popped the bottle open. He sat down and put Yuri up on his lap for a second, earning him a harsh thrust straight into his center.

“ _Je te veux tellement_ …” He said against his temple, tongue popping out of his mouth to circle at it.

“Hurry~” Yuri pleaded and Jean snickered.

“I'll be careful.”  His eyes were tightly closed. “ _Ou pas_ …”

“Fucker.” Yuri bit his lip, trying to contain his laugh. “Just remember I'm having a lot of rehearsals and…”

Jean kissed him, still.  His hands were steady on his waist and Yuri rolled his entire body in pursuit of some kind of release Jean was _not_ giving him.

 _Not yet_.

“Don't worry _Bebé_ , I got you.”

Yuri nodded and Jean slid his wet hand to Yuri's center, pushing it against him and biting his jaw when his fingers wrapped around his dick. The lube was hardly warmed up and Yuri wanted to jump at the touch. But Jean's was _tender_ , loving and hot where his hand wasn't, his words flowed like a stream through the desert and Yuri drank it all.

JJ’s hand drifted to his thighs, slicking up the skin from his supple muscles and scraping down his navel. Yuri's breath was erratic and his lips bitten hard enough to draw blood, the feeling was too much and Jean knew it. He ground down on his palm and mewled, almost purring at the sensation. Jean stripped from his sweats, with help from his lover, dropping all of his clothing on the floor in the end and taking more lube on himself to rub it on his body and then some more on Yuri, creating a soft whisper of wet skin against wet skin. Yuri's mouth watered and he waited through desperate pants for Jean to be over.

“C’mon.” He whispered then, slithering his way down Yuri's body until he was straddled over his strong body. Before, Yuri had also ditched the clothing that hang in his ankles, except for the high socks, and stared at Jean with awestruck eyes as he felt the same relentless movement he had been doing on him before. “ _Donne le moi_ …”

They huffed deeply and Jean took one of Yuri's to kiss his knuckles while they clashed their centers together. JJ bounced and rocked his body with soft rolls of his hips and Yuri allowed him to do as he wanted, saying something dumb in Russian and kissing his hands until the friction was not enough. Yuri felt like he was going crazy and Jean already seemed _mad_.

His hair was chaotic, his eyes unfocused but his expression entirely devoted to what he was doing. His muscles flexed and clenched with every shifting motion and the ink over them seemed to come alive with any sound coming out of his lips. Yuri almost heard angels on every single one of them but he still _yearned_ for more.

“Get on top.” JJ bent as he said this, licking Yuri’s neck and covering his face with his caramel tainted skin who turned deeply red from both excitement and effort.

Jean carried him up with ease, his muscles flexing as he put Yuri over him once more and his back found the mattress. Fraught, his lips searched for the dancer’s and they kissed once more as Yuri grabbed their lengths together and started pumping through his fist. JJ wailed and gripped Jean's hips to encourage him to thrust harder. _Faster_.

Yuri glued his lips to JJ’s forehead and as his words never stopped flowing, they became harsher and a bit cruder with every movement of his body that had Yuri sobbing from the pleasure that Jean’s words expressed.

He could feel JJ’s teeth and tongue pushing against his skin as the same time their hips caught up on a frenetic rhythm that pushed for release and satisfaction. Yuri scraped down Jean's broad shoulders and he replied with a short jab of his waist that made Yuri yelp with want. 

 _There_.

“Gimme more.” Yuri pleaded, tongue peeking out of his teeth to graze at Jean’s bottom lip before pulling at it with almost too much roughness.

Jean obliged, wet finger darting to the split of Yuri’s cheeks where he prodded at his puckering hole with teasing touches until the dancer pushed himself into the digit. Yuri cursed loudly in Russian, eyes rolling to complete whiteness and tongue lolling out from ecstasy before he changed the pace of his waist, until Jean was totally _fucked up_ beneath him.

“Don’t stop.” He kissed Jean when he said this, grabbing his chin and pushing it with harshness at his face. JJ shoved his tongue inside and bit Yuri’s as his finger circled inside him and his hips rocked with perfect ease through his fist. Squeezing, he moaned inside the younger’s mouth and made sure he felt just as good as he was by jabbing at the bundle of nerves inside him with a teasing nail.

“S- _shit_. Baby, don’t stop.” Yuri threw his head backwards, curving his elegant body in a dangerous arch. Taut enough to shoot an arrow anytime now.

 _He was losing himself_.

Yuri screamed when a second finger went inside him, causing him to launch himself to the front once more to kiss Jean with twice the necessity, feeling like he was about to explode.

It took them no more than a few moments like that, frenzy with lust and driven by nothing but their pleasure, to come with wet sounds and muffled screams at each other’s mouths and faces. Jean ended up painted in white from the abdomen and Yuri, barely stained, kissed him clean until JJ was almost crying from over-stimulation, body red and soaked in sweat and slick saliva.

“ _Je t’aime_.” JJ muttered against his tattooed hipbone, sucking at it with red lips when Yuri fell down on the bed besides him. “Love you _madly_.”

Yuri _now_ felt like crying.

“Come here, you idiot.” His tone was affectionate, as his hands when he found himself pulling Jean over him with his hands under his armpits until they were tangled over each other on the bed. Jean threw the covers on top of their bodies and as the sunlight colored his features, he smiled at Yuri like he had been doing for years and his factions turned bright in a matter of seconds.

“So, are you staying?” JJ asked, pleading but knowing at the same time.

_He wasn’t taking a no for an answer._

And Yuri wasn’t giving him one. He could hardly think of _anything_ else.

He nodded.

Whatever JJ felt was unparalleled to Yuri’s excitement, sensing some calm and normalcy on that moment where he forgot almost everything and found peace that reached his inner self. He could ignore the world for the day. 

_Jean would, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wELP  
> We're very, very close to the end. I said no more than 10 chapters but maybe, just maybe I'll leave it at 11.   
> Thanks for reading, please tell me how you've felt this for I don't even KNOW and I really, really appreciated it if you took a sec to leave a comment. It fuels me! ♡ ♡ Thanks for being around. Ly all.


	9. Break Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all about Yuri, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but here- have this. ヾ(･д･ヾ)

Yuri left the city _alone_.

He joined the rest of the company at the capital a couple of days before they left to start rehearsing at the main theatre, for Yuri had much to do before joining the tour.

For starters, leaving his student residence.

He thought that if he really _wanted_ to get his life in order as much as his heart, there was no use on living in the past and holding onto old traditions and places. He wanted to leave everything behind to come back to nothing, where he could find himself at peace with a clear mind to proceed. He had to be an adult and no adult could keep living where he made his worst teenage decisions.

So he decided to leave his dorm, the place that saw him grow as a person and as a dance to a much younger student who will surely become as great as he is if they ever push as much as he did. Yuri felt a little sad about leaving his place just like that, setting aside the fact that it was perfect and incredibly affordable, it was his _home_. His own very piece of heaven in the midst of all his handcrafted hell.

But he had to grow up. He wasn't just a classical dance student anymore.

He was a professional _dancer_ , now.

With the letters gone and his costumes both sold and or sent away for the Company or the Academy, Yuri's whole life fit inside one particular suitcase and a backpack.

He realized he had left pieces of himself everywhere he had been in the past five years, so now that he had to leave he didn't have to carry much.

 _He never belonged anywhere_.

Jean had all of his books and his best suits along with a pair of dresses and his records. Otabek had kept his high school memorabilia and the CDs they had bought together throughout the years. Much of his childhood disappeared when Social Services cleaned up his _Dedushka_ 's apartment once he was taken to the hospital and he had the most important pieces of himself up on some of Victor's storage units in his workplace. He had nothing from the past with him, not from the raging teenager he once was nor from the scared kid who lost his parents way too soon.

Now he could have all of his training gear on a backpack with his laptop, cellphone and chargers along with two pairs of pointe shoes and a couple more of slippers and a box of a new pair for the beginning of the season. Related to his career, the tour team would provide anything he needed for the following months. Then on his suitcase, the same he had bought just before Otabek left to pack his things up, was stuffed with casual wear and very few pairs of shoes. Underwear and socks, combs and a lot of bobby pins with his makeup bag and his jackets. Some printed blazer and far too many multipurpose leggings that could feature on any club or rehearsal session. Some notebooks and a pencil case was all there was along with a hard drive filled with videos, music and photos, and a plastic envelope with every single paper and ID he would ever need. Yuuri already took Potya and her stuff, which barely made it to their tour bus thanks to Victor's hand building some little nest for the kitty inside the transport unit, and that was it.

_There was nothing left._

Yuri didn't have much, once he realized that there wasn't a lot to put on the front door of his suitcase aside from the few pictures he had and his diplomas.

His life wasn't surprising, then. He realized.

Yuri walked out of the student’s residence without batting an eye. No one knew, but himself, that he would never spend another night in there again but he would keep seeing his friends and co-dancers everywhere in his life. So he just moved, putting one foot in front of the other until he was on his way.

Now he was walking down the avenue with some kind of luggage much more heavier than the one on his shoulders as he did his way to his last pit-stop before joining the Company once more. It was hard, carrying something what felt like a million bricks, but that was the way he supposed it had to be.

Truth be told, he had been through worst.

_Like last night._

 

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuri lived with his grandpa for little less than a year once Otabek left.

Nikolai was one strong man, sturdy and intelligent. He had been Yuri’s rock since _forever_ and he cared deeply for him and Victor, whose mother was his sister. He was the closest thing Yuri ever had to a father, to a paternal figure to look up to and ask for help anytime he felt less of the man he truly was. Nikolai was patient, wise and loving to the bone even if he didn’t usually show it. On the other hand, he was also quiet and very private but that must’ve been why he kept himself in check for so, _so_ long.

Until cancer became _a thing_.

Fuck that bitch.

Nikolai was diagnosed with liver cancer when Yuri finished college. Days before his graduation, Jean had called in the middle of Yuri’s most important audition to tell him about the diagnose that had been reported to him on Nikolai’s demand. What the old man never counted on, was the _extreme_ loyalty JJ professed to one young dancer.

Yuri dropped the whole try-out like it was _nothing_ , like his future wasn’t counting on the next three hours and ran to Nikolai’s place like a demon straight from hell.

He remembers reaching for the door, bumping against it with all of his weight before Jean opened it, half scared and half worried, as Yuri stumbled through the frame and ran to his Dedushka’s bed. He saw him there, sitting as he watched the T.V like it was nothing and proceeded to cry like a little baby on his arms for the whole afternoon.

And even when _he_ was the sick one, the one who would face months of treatment and medicines to watch his hair fall and his body weaken, Nikolai consoled Yuri well into the night when they rose for dinner at their favorite place. The younger had been a vivid image of the same little kid who lost their parents on some unfortunate bus ride, and Nikolai told him how much he has loved him ever since then.

If his affection had been once huge, now it was _immeasurable_.

So Yuri moved out from their place, helping the Social Worker to sell the little house to afford Nikolai’s treatment for a full year before Jean stepped in to be in charge of the whole picture. Usually, Yuri would’ve _never_ allowed him to do so; but the numbers on the bills were much bigger than his monthly income and he was not letting his grandpa die.

 _Fucking never_.

Not that it needed to be said, but he wasn’t taking a dime from Otabek’s money, either. No matter how much he sent every week, there was not a way in heaven or hell for him to touch it. So he had to accept Jean’s intervention, he was doing it out of his well intentions and there was nothing Yuri cared more for.

Now that he looks back on it, Yuuri knows that _that’s_ pretty much how he ended up living at the student residence, even if he never truly left his place on the months he lived with Nikolai.

He wondered if, in some alternate universe Dedushka kept their home, he woukd be welcomed once again.

Now he had _no_ place to go even if JJ insisted on his own to become Yuri’s new house, like he suggested in the morning before their rebound with his hand possessively over the small  of his back. Yuri actually dwelled on the thought before ditching it dramatically.  

_He knew he couldn’t._

There wasn’t a home for him there.

No _way_ there could be.

Yuri always said to himself that the only place in the world that could ever be called a home wouldn’t be some upper class apartment on downtown or a hobbit hole in the student residence. It wasn’t his grandpa’s place, either. He never liked the silence and the stillness that could be felt everywhere even when Yuri was turning and jumping in his feet with Tchaikovsky's music blasting through his father’s old turntable. His place wasn’t some forgotten flat that belonged to him for very few days. He left too many ghosts in there, hunting the floors of it, to ever feel comfortable within its walls. He didn’t feel like he belonged to his cousin’s house, either. Not to the one he built specifically for other young dancer who now filled his heart with love and life.

A home couldn’t be a person, either.

And Yuuri did know it.  

So his home wasn’t Jean, Otabek or Nikolai. Nor Victor and Yuuri even if they were more welcoming than any other bed could ever be. His home wasn’t his parents, rest in peace, for they left _too_ long ago.

Yuri still looked for his place on this universe. Whether it was heaven or hell, earth itself or a star far, _far_ away from all the places he once lived, Yuri yearned to belong somewhere he, and only _him_ , could fit.

That’s why he moved out of his’ and Otabek’s apartment like it was nothing. That’s why he didn’t shed a single tear the day he finally gave the key to his childhood home to a young, single mother whose eyes shone with courage and excitement.

That, and only _that_ , was what kept him from eating his heart out the night he emptied the dorm fully. Why he locked the door, knowing it was the last time to ever touch that crooked knob, feeling nothing but a weight off of his shoulders.

_One pound out of a thousand tons._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Greeted by Yuuri and Guang-Hong, the blonde dancer kept his tears to himself when they kissed his cheeks to welcome him into their hotel bedroom.

First thing in the morning he was finally with the Company, guided by a pair of older dancers to his bedroom and hugged by younger ones who were eager to start their very _first_ tour. Yuri wasn't fully used to them, they were always thrilling and exciting but this time his head was somewhere entirely else.

Probably Yuuri noticed, since he asked as soon as Guang Hong stepped into the shower. They loved the soloist but he lived on a world of his own, pink and perfect thanks to his incredibly sweet boyfriend, Leo.

“ _Yurio_.” Yuuri called him, handing him Potya who had been going crazy without Yuri around. “What's up?”

He shook his head, chewing his bottom lip with nervousness.

He knew he had to talk, he had forced himself to think about the right words to tell Victor, Yuuri, Lila, _anyone_ about his struggle. He truly, really wanted to let the ocean of his heart overflow through his eyes and past his lips. Yuuri was the perfect person to do so in front of, he was kind and understanding but even with everything he owned by his side, Yuri felt like there was something missing that wouldn’t let him speak. Something forgotten between Jean’s sheets or Otabek’s jackets.

Yuri looked away, not wanting to meet Yuuri’s concerned eyes.

“Ah, _c'mon_. You look devastated.” The other shrugged and Yuuri rolled his eyes. “I won't bug you anymore but never doubt telling me anything, okay?” Yuri nodded and the other dancer briefly kissed his cheek. Yurio flinched and kicked his friend in the gut, jokingly but still powerfully.

“Aw! _Moherfu_ -” He snickered, taking in a deep breath. “I'm calling Victor anyway. I'll tell you said hi.”

Yurio rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile.

“Whatever you want, sucker. Tell him Nikolai wants Borscht.” With that, Yuri flopped down on his bed and watched his friend walk over to the balcony with his phone in hand.

Yuri felt, somehow, that this would be Yuuri’s last tour before he dived into more producing than performing and the thought only nourished his panic for change. He still, somehow, was not ready to face changes and challenges; no matter how much needed they were.

Yet, he knew it would happen because Yuuri was happy and _fulfilled_.

He swallowed his friend’s giddy smiles and blushed laughter while he rubbed Potya’s belly. Yuri never knew anyone who could speak through the phone as if the other person was there like Yuuri and Victor themselves. Time flew by and Yuri could only wonder if they ever got tired of each other. Of their voices, their faces, their bodies… anything. But from the way Yuuri twirled outside, on his tiptoes with his cellphone perfectly in place, he wondered that maybe they _didn’t._

And maybe that was what love truly was.

 _But what did he know_?

Yuri looked up to his best friend not only for his insane flexibility and perfect step sequences, nor for his presence on stage or the way he made everyone fall in love with him as a dancer and as a person. Yuri looked up to his best friend because he had managed to find a perfect balance between his life and love, while simultaneously giving it all to his cousin, Victor. Yuri wondered if he ever did the same, because Yuuri deserved no less than the whole universe and even if his cousin could come up as a promise of sugar, spice and everything nice, Yuri just knew _them_ Russians were a bit more than trouble.

But if Yuuri came back from a ten minute phone call looking _like that_ , he must be doing something very, very good.

“How did you know Victor was the one?” Yurio spat in front of Yuuri once he turned off his phone, after plugging it.

He looked taken back by the question, literally stopping in his tracks before shivering with the rush of melancholy.

Yuuri’s smile was _heavenly_ after that.

“I didn’t.” He admitted. “He showed me.”

_How?_

Yurio only titled his head in curiosity and his friend laughed.

“Truth be told I fell in love with him the second I saw him at our college tour.” He sighed. “I know you pretended to _hate_ JJ once you met him but I clearly remember watching Victor to the eyes and just going like… ‘ok, wow. I’m marrying that man one day.’ And, well…” He raised his left, fourth finger. “Look at me!”

Yurio rolled his eyes so hard he felt they were going to fall from their sockets. Yuuri only laughed sheepishly.

“I was far too gone for the man, honestly. We started dating on my first year on college and I was literally wrapped on his jean pocket since day one. My judgment was not one to trust. But his…” He sighed, sitting on Yuri’s bed with perfectly crossed legs. “He knew he had to show me good from bad if I wanted to spend every day with him. He made things tough, but because it was realistic. It was how things were and, at the same time, he always solved everything wearing that big, dumb smile.”

“ _Super_ dumb.” Yuri laughed and Potya purred beneath him, almost duplicating Yuri’s actions.

Yuuri nodded, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes.

“Once the haze of fantasy evaporated I saw everything clearly. I realized he was complex, hurt and lonely and that I couldn’t be some accessory to take to business parties… I wanted to heal him, help him, love him. Just like he did.” Yuuri took his friend’s hand. “And I knew because he let me know.”

“How?” Yuri pressed, curiosity bubbling through his stomach.

“At first it was the way he cared for me. Not providing me with my slippers and the costume fees like he used to in the beginning.” He shook his head and Yurio laughed out loud. “He called in to my dorm every night, he called me every morning to wake me up because he said alarm clocks were too rude and at the same time he scolded me for pushing myself too much. Then he supported my decisions and opposed my wrongdoings. He never let me hear what I want to hear, he never lies to me even if it’s for my own good.”

He looked over at Yuri, and he only nodded his confirmation for him to go on.

“He showed me he was the one because he loved me unconditionally through my best and my worst, without ever faltering or changing his affection because I did well or not.” Yuuri blushed and looked down. “He showed me he was the one because he made me better, and I did the same for him. I guess I knew we complemented each other in a way no one ever would. And that’s why it _had_ to be us.”

Yuri sank down in thought, absorbing that last bit of information to the point the phrase itself sounded strange to his ears.

 _It couldn’t be_.

Yuri was perfectly complemented by both Jean and Otabek, who had him into this fucking mess, perfectly.

It couldn’t be because the holes he had dealt through his life were perfectly shaped like the two of them.

Jean shone where Yuri was dark, on his brooding snarls and his crude words JJ was vibrant and polite. He always knew how to make Yuri laugh and smile, he pushed his buttons just right to rile him up before an important recital or to just talk to him through his worst days. Jean was understanding but also thrown into the spotlight because it _had_ to be _him_ in front of the world. And Yuri, who was used to be at the center of the stage, turned out to be a mere prop besides him. But it was fine by him, he felt his skin was too weak for the intensity of the highlight. Jean made up for the lack of touch, of sensibility. For the need of always wanting more, the sense of competition against himself but also the love for his own, the care of his self.

Jean wanted Yuri to love him like he danced, fiery and passionate like a wild being that surrendered to its feelings and wants as he moved and moved; unstoppable. Yuri loved Jean like it was the last thing he was going to do on this life.

Otabek, on the other hand, was all about showing off Yuri. He liked to stay back and watch him walk or dance, only holding his hand when Yuri told him to because otherwise he would prefer to see him trace the lines of the bricks in the walls or hold a book through the stars. Otabek was there as a literal support, some kind of crutch that held Yuri up through his weakest and lowest; like some kind of throne to lift him on his best and most wonderful days. No matter how rare they were, Otabek was ready to put him in front of the world so they _all_ could see how great he was. Otabek made up for the absence of calm and focus. For the thought of all things and the consideration of others, of the world that was there beyond him.

Otabek loved Yuri like he loved dancing, for what it made him feel and the emotions it offered to his wilted soul in a thrill of care, sincerity and vulnerability. Yuri loved Otabek like no one could ever love anything else.

In the end, _it made no sense_.

Yuuri reached out for Yurio and softly pulled a golden lock to make them stare at the other one once more.

“But that’s how it happened to me. It isn’t the same for everyone.” He reassured him, calm and steady like the water of a lake. “You will know which way to go once you started to walk down the path. And so far, you’ve been doing good.”

Yuri nodded, trying to fight the tears.

“You think I’ll be able to… to make the right choice?” Yurio muttered. “Even if I don’t know who’s the one? If _I’m_ the one?”

“You will always be the one for the right person. And you will find them if you follow your heard despite whatever’s going on here.” He flicked Yuri’s forehead and he looked at him, half pissed off and half surprised.

“You _fucker_!”

Yuuri giggled as they heard the bathroom door unlocking.

“You’ll be fine. _Believe me_ , you will be. Even if right now it doesn’t look like it.” He jumped off of the bed with the grace he knew he _had_. “Think about it… But not on the stage, though. We need you to be at your three hundred percent whenever you’re on pointe.”

Yuri threw Yuuri a heavy pillow.

“My dancing is _always_ perfect!” He assured and his friend laughed madly, nodding like crazy as Guang Hong came out of the bathroom.

“You guys are already starting the pillow fight?” His tone was sarcastic but it _also_ suggested a sense of deep betrayal.

“Not without you, Ji-kun!” Yuuri reassured him as he took his beauty bag from his suitcase.

“You better wait for me.” He almost barked with that sweet voice, making the older dancers shriek before howling deep laughter.

For now, Yuri could laugh and sleep like he didn’t have all this things to think of. It was for the best, and he could totally use a break from his mind right now.

 _What were friends for_?

**-** **♡** **-**

The last days Yuri spent with Jean resembled a whole lotta lot to those _before_ he proposed.

Except for the fact, that they resembled much more to what their beginning should’ve been. Since now, for so _little_ time together, at their second chance, they spent a great deal of their days talking about _Otabek_.

Yuri had never been more confused in his life.

They spoke about how they met, who he was and what they used to do. Yuri told him the way he used to hang with his family, missing his own, and the way Otabek’s sisters turned into his own. How his mother was one for Yuri and how Nikolai was a second father to Beka. Yuri told him about their high school love, the first shot he ever had at romance, and the way it ended all when he left. Yuri, for the first time, happened to be sincere about his struggle and the fights they had over money; but he also told him how he happened to be his rock and pillar through life. How he encouraged him to follow his dreams and the way Beka would beat his own ass just to make Yuri happy.

He felt like he had said everything there was to say about him.

 _Even if he had not_.

Yet, Jean took _every_ shot he had at erasing _him_ from his head with wild kisses and firm touches once Yuri went quiet. He wanted to know about Beka, _yes_ , but he also seemed like he tried to prove something. Yuri barely understood what JJ wanted but he let him do so because it resembled so much to the man he once felt like having for his whole life.

Driven, focused, _passionate_.

Jean was tender, loving and caring. But also adoring, inflaming with a heavy force of need and almost veneration that made Yuri feel like he could live out of nothing but his adulation and nothing else.

 _But_ he was still _JJ_.

“ _Minou_ , when are you coming back?”

Yuri looked up to him from the couch, muting the TV to answer. Jean was sitting beside him on his desk at the office in his apartment. He was _always_ working.

“Two months time, a bit after. Maybe.” There was an exact date to be back here but for some reason he didn't feel like telling Jean. Not even after their little sort-of-honeymoon. “Why?”

“So I can go and pick you up at the airport.” Jean was standing up behind him now. After speaking, he leaned forward and tried to kiss him, but Yuri laughed him off.

“Not happening, Victor’s doing it.” He said, biting his lip as he tried to come up with an excuse. “He’s picking grandpa up and we’ll have dinner the three of us. And Yuuri. But Nikolai _loves_ Yuuri.”

Jean rolled his eyes, elbows propped on the back of the sofa.

“What does that Japanese _minx_ has that _I_ don’t?” He squeezed his eyes.

“For starters, an ass to _die_ for.”

Jean choked on his own spit after snorting.

“ _Yuri_!”

He laughed once more and slid from the couch, avoiding the older man as he paced outside the office, towards the kitchen.

It took Jean no longer than a couple of seconds to follow him, making Yuri press his lips tightly. He didn’t want to fight about his arrival, so he thought of something else to distract JJ.

“I'm leaving the day after tomorrow. What'd you think if we go or and have a drink tonight?” Yuri asked as he stared at the crystal shelf with liquors, once he was back next to him.

“Ah, I don't know… I had a long day today.” Yuri turned around, kitty eyes shining pleadingly as he stepped closer to him and wrapped his lithe limbs around his waist. “ _Fuck you_ , sure. Of course.” He nodded, defeated.

_He always won._

“Yes!” Yuri kissed his jaw, scratchy with a trace of stubble.

“Where do you want to go?” Jean breathed out.

Yuri almost jumped at the _instant_ idea.

“Let's go to Leo's!”

“Leo's it is.” JJ agreed, biting his lip before kissing Yuri.

After that, Yuri prepared a light snack as Jean took a shower and he changed into something better than leggings and a crop top. The summer was cruel and the city still warmed up well into the night, plus being inside at a bar with a dancing floor made everything perfect for Yuri to get into a couple of high-waist shorts with a loose flower blouse and sneakers. Jean came down, fresh in some khakis and a red, bright shirt with too many buttons down to _not_ stare at him.

He stole a bite from Yuri’s apple as he did his makeup, and kissed his neck restlessly before they went outside to get JJ’s car.

Next thing they knew, Yuri circled his hips, Margarita in hand, without breaking eye contact with Jean. His hair was down over his off-the shoulder blouse, covering his back, as he trashed his head in perfect unison with his waist. Jean stared down on him and sipped his tequila with soda once Yuri started to go lower on the floor.

It was like there wasn’t anyone else around them.

But there _was_ people.

Girls mimicking his movements, crowding him up as guys tried to put a single finger on him to call his attention. Yuri had all eyes on him, beautiful and dangerous as the alcohol sizzled in his mind and made him far more reckless than he was when sober. He didn’t pay attention to no one, but neither he did anything to move from the luring touches and vivid calls. H

_He was a performer, after all._

The song was going hard, pumping through Yuri's veins as he danced on his feet and sipped his drink. Some dark and brooding voice sang in Spanish to a powering melody and Yuri was enjoying it a _little_ too much. He locked eyes with Jean once more and rolled his body to the song, among the people, throwing back the rest of his drink before approaching him. He had finished his little show.  

“Dance with me.” Yuri whispered on his ear once he put down his glass on the bar and got into his boyfriend's lap, legs hanging on each side of his hips. He ground down on him to the song, not caring of those who saw, and rocked his waist to call his attention. Making him _watch_ Yuri.  

“Make me.”

Yuri smiled mischievously, sliding down on Jean's knees until he was sitting on only one of his legs. One of Yuri’s was perfectly aligned to JJ’s center, and the look he gave to the dancer was almost _demanding_. Yuri then tried to push his groin straight into his knee before kissing him, pressing his own thigh against Jean. He gripped the younger by the neck and deepened the kiss before his other hand left the glass unattended at the bar. He shot his leg up and Yuri moaned deeply.  

He let him go, jumping off of his leg and pulling him towards the dance floor before his arousal became too noticeable.

“C'mon!” Yuri giggled and Jean rolled his eyes, still bothered from the little lap dance he got.

Yuri stared at him, knowing smile on his lips before rolling his eyes.

“You're far too hot to look _this_ annoyed.” Nipping at his jaw, Yuri undid the first three buttons of Jean's shirt before gripping the belt on his waist before he started to rock their hips together.

The song changed to one by a woman with a particular, raspy voice with an upbeat but sexy tone. The lyrics sounded rich and grave as Yuri matched his thrusts to the music, making Jean blush and groan against his shoulder when they danced together. He had his arms around the small waist of the other, flush frames encountered with heat and barely-there droplets of sweat.

 _They wanted more already_.

The night was just beginning and Yuri wasn't slowing down at all. He did his best on keeping Jean in check but his hands roamed everywhere through his body and groped at any flesh they could find, holding onto it for dear life. In the end, Yuri allowed him, since he was on his fare share of _contact_. He kissed him back and they circled their waists together as JJ pushed one of his legs between Yuri's, like they had minutes before.

The dance floor always buzzed with people dancing, drinking and laughing or even trying to sing, the mass accumulated on the space seemed to get larger as the strobing lights shone through the darkness of the bar. Yuri was glued to Jean's chest and his lips grazed the naked skin in front of him like he didn't care at all, nipping at his chest with a teasing tongue.

And he _truly_ didn't care.

Who knew if he would ever be like this, _with him_ again.

They got more drinks, one after the other on a unstoppable flow that had them dizzy in seconds after rubbing themselves against each other for an hour or so, with songs from foreign lands and rhythms thick as honey to entice them on much more than dancing.

“Help me?” Yuri's voice was innocent, but the way he made Jean touch the inside of his thighs wasn't, once they finished another Tequila shot.

He moaned and nodded, pushing him to a dark corner past the bar and the bathrooms where Yuri was propped against a wall in seconds. There were people who watched them slide through the hallway but in the end, they were ignored. JJ licked his lips and kissed them hungrily with his hands undoing Yuri's tight pants.

“You looked so good in this.” He bit him. “ _Everybody_ was watching you but look who got you in the end.”

Yuri moaned and nodded, opening his legs more as JJ released him with the grip of his fist through his briefs. Elated in sensations before biting back at Jean, he squeezed his eyes tightly and pressed himself further down on Jean’s hands. The touch was not only burning but _maddening_ , turning him insane with need even if he felt some kind of satisfaction bubbling with the slightest of the touches.

Jean was about to go on his knees but Yuri shook his head and pulled him into a bathroom stall, he was _needy_ but he had not forgotten basic decency.

“Not in there.” He whispered before opening the door to one and slamming himself to the closed entrance, eyeing Jean like _he_ was the pray when Yuri was the one being slowly hunt.

JJ lost no time on going down, pulling the briefs down and opening his mouth to take Yuri fully.

He bucked his hips once, then twice and Jean licked everything inside his mouth with greed. Yuri groaned and bit his lip, ecstasy melting his bones and shooting stars into his eyes as Jean took no more than a few minutes to have him panting and biting into his own hair. He felt his body clench, coiling tightly into a knot as Jean had spit running down his chin. There was a cracking fire on the pit of his stomach, boiling up his blood and turning his vision white with pleasure before it went fully read at the small bite JJ gave at his thighs before diving once more on his former task. Yuri tried to rock forward but Jean had him pinned to the stall wall with hands like an iron harness around his hips. He was in control even knelt down.

Yuri looked down on him, biting his index finger to control his screams and crashed down on the _sight_ the man beneath him was. He came down in short jerks of his body, looking at JJ flushed and sweaty with his hair completely undone as he stared straight into his eyes. The emerald locked with the sapphire and when JJ _winked_ he was already swallowing him.

Yuri panted heavily and pulled Jean up to kiss him senseless, not caring of anything but his lips over his own, _devouring_ him.

“Let's get back home.” JJ whispered and Yuri nodded, boneless.

They waited for him to come back to his senses, to life, and slid out of the bathroom between laughter. On their way back they paid their bills, asking for a single glass of water more to wash down the flavor of their debauchery, while swinging out of the bar in a flourish of kisses and madness.

The city was buzzing alive outside, cars running down the avenue and people lining up to get inside the place. Yuri felt like he could run back home if he had to and tugged at Jean’s shirt to turn to his direction.

But he was looking somewhere else.

_Who was there?_

Yuri bit his lip, following Jean’s gaze until his own eyes laid on _Otabek_.

He was crossing the street with Mila and Seung Gil by his side. He wore a crossed expression at the sight of Jean but the second his eyes ended up on Yuri’s; everything in the world seemed to disappear but them.

“Hey Yuri!” Mila screamed at him, waving his hand as Seung Gil acknowledged him with a short nod.

The lights were shut down, the people vanished and the noise evaporated into complete silence as he reached the sidewalk and reached for Yuri. He touched his cheek and the whole universe could’ve burned down and they would’ve _never_ realized it.

“ _Yura_.” He whispered, sounding astonished to see him there.

Yuuri took a step back, feeling a lot of guilt building on his stomach as he saw him looking into his face with both concern and happiness, like seeing him made him wonder _why_ was he there but also bringing to his face a small but honest smile.  

_He looked precious._

“Yuri. _Minou_.” Jean's voice tried to call for him but for some reason he couldn't even picture him now that he was so lost on Otabek, he was a distant sound in the middle of their nothingness. “Let's go…”

He sounded impatient. He _was_ impatient.

Burt what could Yuri do, but stare at Beka, after so many days of not seeing each other but talking about him like it was the only thing he knew how to say?

“ _Yura_. I read everything.” He answered, not caring about Yuri’s doubt.

 _He didn’t know_ , Yuri had to remember, to calm himself.

“I have missed you terribly.” Beka said once more, like he didn’t care to be so openly honest in front of his friends. And he didn’t, he had always been like this.  

Yuri looked at him, almost afraid of his following actions. He couldn't be doing this to him right now.

_But he was._

“Beka, not now…” He pleaded.

“I’ll be inside.” Seung said, not caring to intrude on the scene as he went into the bar.

“Are you staying with him?” He asked then, looking for a split second at Jean. “I've been going every morning and every night the last days to your place and…And you're never there. I need to talk to you.”

Otabek’s shoulders were tense as his neck, his hands balled up in fists and his breathing erratic. Yuri could _always_ read him and he knew he was taut as a bow, ready to shoot an arrow anytime now. He had to be extremely careful.

“ _Yuri_.” JJ called him once more.

“Wait!” He yelled in answer, not even looking at him.

“Please give me a minute.” Otabek made him look at him once more. “I have been an idiot…”

“I'll be leaving _tomorrow_ , Beka.” Since it was well past midnight, Yuri pushed those words out of him, trying not to stare too hard at him anymore. “I can't do this now. We're _not_ doing it now.”

“But Yura…”

He almost laughed, this single conversation sounded so much to all of their ‘fights’ and it was _lovely_ , on its own.

“Yuri. We have to go.” JJ pressed his voice. “Now.”

“Otabek.” Mila said, clearing her throat. “I think it’s the best if we head in…”

Even if _they_ were _not_ meant to be there.

Yuri turned around.

“Don't tell me what to do. Stay on you damn lane.” He barked at Jean while Otabek shook his head at his friend. Yuri shot him a brief glare, biting his lip before inhaling the sharp air. “I'm not here to obey you for shit, Jean. _Calm down_.”

“I’ll be there in a second.” Otabek said to Mila, who didn’t go inside the bar but stepped aside, further into the chain line.

“Why do we always find the worst moments?” Yuri shook his head at his _best friend_ and Otabek leaned forward to stick his forehead to Yuri's, _shameless_.

“Step away from him.” Jean's voice thundered, not knowing who it was aimed for.

“You’re really into _that_ idiot?” Otabek snickered and Yuri didn't even answer, but he couldn’t control his smile. Even if he wasn’t fully joking, it was still endearing.

“You're so mean…” He touched Otabek's chest just to be sure he was still there, yet the warmth it irradiated made him blush. His heart, steady and strong, turned Yuri into an ashamed mess. He stepped back. “I'll talk you later.”

Otabek was about to answer when he saw Jean coming closer. His body, already on edge, and his hands shaken up with distress, conveyed a protective but threatening aura when he saw him. Beka shoot his hand past Yuri's shoulder and pushed Jean before he could touch him, making Yuri turn abruptly to look at the other man.

But then Otabek moved quickly to stand in his way, in front of Yuri with an unwavering determination on his face as Jean approached once more to both of them. If it was the jealousy or the alcohol, they didn’t know but he looked _mad_.  

“Otabek!” Mila screamed, once again into the scene, but he didn't may her no mind.

“Step _aside_.” JJ said, talking straight to him as if Yuri wasn’t there.

“You leave him _alone_.” Otabek spat. “He's not _ours_ to claim.”

Yuri looked back at him and tried to say something, to calm him down or make him walk away. But it was not happening once he saw the way his iris had swallowed the rest of his brown ring.

“That's what you _think_.” With that, JJ tried to shoot a blow at Beka's face but he grabbed his fist and twisted his hand for  a second before Yuri was in front of him once more, literally biting his hand off of Jean's.

“ _Fuck_! Yura, what are we? _Ten_?”

“We all sure act like it!” He turned to face him fully. “I wasn't going to fight you, _Commander_.”

That last sarcastic remark couldn't even make his point before Jean was once more at Yuri's back, breaking the second of tranquility with rage.

“I told you to come!” JJ took Yuri by the wrist and pulled him to his chest. Yuri crashed against it in one swift swing; nose straight into his cold sternum after being violently dragged around towards him.

“Man what _the fuck_?” Otabek, god knows how, snapped JJ's hand off of Yuri's wrist, jabbed at his stomach with his elbow and pushed the taller man aside with almost no effort before he cupped Yuri's face, out of nothing he was totally tranquil now. “You're okay?”

Yuri lifted his gaze, a single drop of blood running from his sore nose as he tried to nod.

“ _Yeah_.” He lied.

_It hurt like hell._

“That _fucking_ idiot-” Otabek, somehow still contained, was a second away from launching himself at Jean with fisted hands, but Yuri hooked his arm around his waist and prevented him to do so. Instead he made him walk backwards to the corner of the street and hit him on the chest with no strength at all but a whole load of meaning on his demeanor after settling him between himself and the avenue.

“I said: we're _not_ doing this.” His voice was hard, the Russian accent thickening with the low grumble added to his words, like he only did when wanting to add meaning. “We're not like _this_.”

“But _he_ is?!” Otabek roared, unbelievingly. “That motherfucker _hurt_ you!”

Yuri shook his head.

“An _accident_. And we're going to rise above it.” Yuri released him and brushed his knuckles over Otabek's angry face, bringing out an immediate reaction from him. He sighed deeply. “Why you always look so handsome all riled up?”

Otabek rolled his eyes and took Yuri's hand to kiss the inside of it, breathing deeply to match Yuri’s rhythm.

“So no talking?” He dared to ask once again.

Yuri shook his head.

“Not until I come back… I have to make up my mind. Once that's done I'll hear all you have to say. But be warned, no sweet talk will ever change my decision.”

Otabek let him go, nodding.

“Believe me, I _know_.”

“Please understand I have a lot of thinking to do.”

“And _dancing_.” They both laughed softly and nodded.

“Yeah… it won't be long till I'm back.” Yuri didn’t know why he cared so much about reassuring him.

Otabek kept nodding, but now his face seemed constricted in pain.

 _He was gorgeous_.

“If you waited five _years_ for me I can stand two _months_.”

Yuri inhaled sharply.  

“That didn't exactly work, as you can see…” Yuri shook his head. “You _don't_ have to wait for me. I'm not doing to you what you did to me.”

“Mean, Yurochka!”

Yuri giggled and took a step back, if he didn’t back down right now maybe he never will.

“I still care for you. Just for you to know.” He said.  

“And I still love you.”

Yuri turned around as he spoke.

“I _know_.” Then, barely over a whisper, he added. “Me too.”

In that moment, Yuri came to realize how bad he had it. There was no way in heaven or hell he could ever forget Otabek or step away from Jean, they were both so great in so many ways that it pained him to think that, someday, he would have to do without _both_ of them. For Yuri it was like getting rid of a leg or an arm, it would hurt the same but there where things he would never, ever, do the same again. And as stupid as it sounded to think of them as part of his own, he couldn’t think of any other way to do it. He was just too invested on them, on their hearts and bodies, as well as their souls, to drop either one like it wouldn’t harm him at all.

He looked at Otabek and his soul hurt, but if he stared back at Jean everything broke down like a dam who couldn’t contain a single drop of water anymore. And he knew that he wasn’t the only one hurting, the only one sick with this doubts and done with the fear of having to ever let go. He knew, and he was well aware, that in the end whatever his decision was, someone would simply get hurt like they had never in their lives. And Yuri didn’t like to think so highly of himself but that was just it, the truth that haunted him on his sleep.

Yuri would rather go blind, deaf or even _die_ , before breaking any of these two men past beyond the point of repair.

_He couldn’t bear the thought of being that person._

He had to run.

Walking hurriedly past Jean, who tried to catch him, and ignoring Mila’s curiosity, Yuri took the first available cab he could catch without looking back.

He knew the end can't always justify the means.

_And he hated to this._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Several days later, Yuri finally left the capital with a considerable number of great presentations behind him.

Yuri had actually forgotten why he loved dancing so much and why performing was one of his favorite things to ever do in the world. He loved the energy and the music, the love and attention from a hundred pair of eyes staring at him as he did what he was _the_ best at. Yuri once chose to be a dancer because he swore no one could ever forget him, because he wanted to rock the world and people's hearts with a few jumps and a million twirls on his tiptoes, even if it crushed his bones and made his skin bled; it was _worth_ it.

 _It had to be_.

Yuri once chose to be a dancer because he was the best at it, whether some people agreed with him or not. And somehow, even through time and heartbreak, he _still_ was.

So it made him feel at the top of the world to come out of a week with such a clean record of perfectly executed choreographies and the thundering of applause as he left the stage night after night, music ringing on his ears and muscles straining to get him to backstage. Even when people begged him not to leave, that was his favorite moment of any presentation. The sensation he evoked on the rest,  that longing and want for _more_ that he would not give them.

Yuri _loved_ to dance.

Because he was no better than them even when he jumped more than a meter up in the sky and landed with the grace of a feather, even if he managed to do fifty _fouettés_ in a row or if he was able to bend any way possible.  The sensation of superiority lasted no more than the minutes a song provided and it was enough before he got to be as simple and _human_ as the crowd; and for some reason that same lesson on humility was another thing he adored about his profession, his life.

So the tour rolled around just like that, a week turning into two and then he was a couple of days away from the _first_ month.

_He was at peace._

Dancing for himself was also different, it made Yuri feel like he was back in _control_ of his own life and feelings, like he was the one in charge of his breathing like he _should_ be. So Yuri relished on that fact to enhance the best of his interpretations, moving his perfectly calibrated body to represent a person who didn't exist but still possessed him few hours a week. It was special, since he truly performed for himself. For the pleasure of doing so, for the feeling of _his_ body transpire in the spotlight, the burn of the stretch and the adrenaline of the pirouettes that made _him_ dizzy whenever he reached the backstage. He danced for _himself_ , because there wasn't anything that he loved as much as it and it filled _him_ with happiness and pride to be able to do art with nothing but the movement of his _own_ body.

And sometimes not everyone could see that.

Sometimes they _didn't_ understand it.

But there was people who _did_ , like Yuuri and Guang-Hong, who in spite of the homesickness and the longing of their significant others, still did their best as much as Yuri. It was strange how they were all so different and at the same time they understood what it was to be a dancer, so they made everything easier for the other. Somehow.

“I called Leo last night and he told me the bar’s doing great!” Ji came by smiling, dressed on his tight berry costume with feathers and gold, makeup half done. “He says hello to you all.” He winked at them and sat down so the make-up artist could keep up with her job.

“That’s so great, Ji-kun!” Yuuri came by and stole his mascara for a second. “Congratulate him next time you talk.”

“Sure!”

“Stop hoarding everyone’s make-up, Katsudon.” Yuri barked through the stack of bobby pins between his lips. “You’re fine already.”

“You can _never_ be too prepared, Yurio.” He replied, batting his _insanely_ long lashes and smirking with that ruby-stained mouth.

Yuri almost _growled_. It was unfair how he could be so _stupidly_ beautiful.

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes and finished his bun. Perfect and neat as always, before turning to him. “So, you’re helping me with _my_ makeup or what?”

Yuuri only laughed as he took Yuri’s bag.

“Let’s beat this pretty face of yours.”

From all the things Yuri loved about his profession, his life as a dancer, was the friends and _family_ he has made through the years. Katsuki, being one of those who come from a very long way since high school, was one of those things Yuri was the most grateful for.

He stared at his friend through the mirror behind him, taking in the image of Yuuri’s firm curves under his blossom _yukata_. Yuri knew that underneath it, there was a dangerous black and red dress that was used on the first scene of the production, where other four dancers wore the same costume as they danced in perfect unison along the stage. He was always so captivating on the stage that Yuri constantly wondered why he didn’t get more primaries.

“Are you ready for tonight?” Yuuri wondered as he concealed the younger’s face.

“Sure, just a bit tired from yesterday.” They stayed late at night on some bar after the performance and even if the alcohol was kept in line the dancing was still happening even after a two-hour show.

And they weren’t even the leads.

This year's tour was based off of a book that one of the choreographers read like ten years ago and now had the chance of her life to present what she was already calling her masterpiece. It was airy, dream-like and absolutely stunning. Yuri had one of the main characters since he was, of course, the principal for the Nutcracker. For the third time in a row thank you very much.

And no matter how impressive a national tour sounded, it had nothing on being the main lead on the state performance.

But still, he wasn’t on the headers so he didn’t dance _as much_ as others.

Yuri was doing well, the critics had been not only kind but also flattering and he could already feel a great start off to one hell of a tour as well as his friends.

“Yeah…” Yuuri giggled. “It was _something_. You sure you will be able to jump after so many sq-”

“Shut up and do my face, Katsudon!”

“Well Yurio he _can’t_!” Ji laughed from his stool, scrolling on his phone. “He’s _engaged_ for God’s sake.”

Yuri bit his lip to contain a smile, but Yuuri was laughing so loudly someone from production came by to tell them to tone it down. Guang Hong winked at them and the artist behind him snickered to herself as she cleaned up some brushes.

 _Touring_ _was_ _good_.

After that they fell into silence, comfortable enough for them to gather the focus for the next hours of presentation. Yuri sank on his mind and absorbed every single ounce of concentration he could muster then and there, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He thought of the applause and the spotlight, the screaming and the flowers-

Yuri _immediately_ felt some kind of need to tell Otabek _or_ JJ about his presentations.

 _They would be so proud_.

Then he remembered his grandpa's words, and chose to keep it to Nikolai himself instead of venting to the men he had to avoid.  Yuri hoped, somehow, it would be the best.

Otherwise his Dedushka would _skin_ him.

He opened his eyes and took out his phone, dialing his grandpa’s number with an excited hum. He felt like he was sixteen all over again in his first participation ever at the Swan Lake, calling out of anxiousness rather than the need of sharing. Yuri smiled to himself as he thought of how he barely remembered anything on his time on stage but how he could picture perfectly all of the Altin family cheering and _whistling_ during the curtain call as his grandpa laughed from happiness and Otabek, that _idiot_ , pushed through the first bleachers to get his flowers to the floor of the stage.

Yuri shook his head, getting rid of the image as soon as he could.

_Not now._

_Yet, he couldn’t stop smiling._

**-** **♡** **-**

Yuri stepped into Nikolai’s room before leaving in the afternoon, it had been _a while_ , to say the least, since the last time he stopped at the residence and he thought it would be fitting to do so now before leaving.

After all, every time he left, he went away with the feeling that whenever he came back, he wouldn't be there anymore.

“Hey.” Yuri muttered to the nurse who helped his grandpa to sit straight at the moment.

“Good afternoon Yuri!” The woman said, smiling at him. “We were just talking about you!”

“You were?” He asked, returning the gesture with a twitch of his mouth.

_It was a good day._

“Ah, Yura.” Nikolai greeted him with a gruff voice. “Beth told me you were coming so I took a shower.” Yuri smiled hugely, then. “But I didn’t like that sticky lavender soap you got me. It smells.”

Yuri laughed, trying to bite back the tears at seeing his grandpa so well. It always filled him with happiness.

“That’s the way it’s supposed to be, _shef_.” He sat down on the chair close to the bed and placed the flowers on Nikolai’s lap. “I rather have you smell like a orchard rather than a thousand hospitals.”

Nikolai laughed as much as his body allowed him, as he groped the flower bouquet by the stems.

“This are very pretty, Yurochka.” His pale, ghost white, hand contrasted shockingly with the green leaves from the arrangement of assorted tropical flowers. Nikolai liked them the best, said he loved them since he saw a picture of a Hawaiian garden in the middle of a frozen, war-torn, Moscow that barely bred baby’s breath and little roses that died too soon. “Thank you.”

Yuri nodded.

“How are you?”

“As good as I can be. I had therapy yesterday but today I woke up feeling fine.”

“That means it’s working…” Yuri sang, jokingly.

“Ah, I hope so.” His shoulders shook with a soundless laughter. “I had an appointment today with my oncologist but I rescheduled for tomorrow. Couldn’t miss my Yurochka before he left.”

“Told him as soon as you called last night.” Beth explained, taking the wheelchair away from the bed.

“Thank you.” He said to her before turning once more to his grandpa. “I’m sorry I didn’t come before. I was very busy.”

“Jean told me.” He replied as the nurse, took the flowers and put them in water. “He stopped by about a week ago.”

“It was last month, Niko.” Beth said, chuckling to herself as the old man barked something about ‘ _nosy women_ ’ in Russian. “He brought a very beautiful picture of you, Yuri. But we sent it to be framed. It was from your last recital.”

Yuri bit his lip.

“How nice of him.” He looked into his grandpa’s eyes. “Did he say anything about me?”

Nikolai shook his head.

“Only let me know you were occupied with work. And gave me that post card you never sent from your last trip together. Thought it surprised me to know you’re not together anymore.”

“Did he tell you about…”

“Otabek?” Nikolai laughed once more. “Ah, Yuri. You are always getting yourself in trouble, aren’t you?” Yuri nodded, sadly but still smiling. “He did… But I didn’t tell him anything. He was hurt, that I can remember. But I only let him talk and whine to me, as if he didn’t know I love that Beka as if he was my own son.”

_Well._

Yuri slapped his own forehead, sighing.

“ _Grandpa_!”

“I didn’t say anything to him!” He coughed and Yuri winced, rubbing the reddened skin of his face. “I like Jean as well but if I _have_ to take a side…”

“I _know_. Don’t say anything else.” Yuri sighed and took Nikolai’s hand, squeezing it as he processed his words. “But yeah, Beka’s back.”

“I knew that, too. He came recently.” He squeezed back. “He did came about a week ago. His mom still works here and I think she must’ve told him something.”

Probably.

_Since Yuri did not._

“The young man with handsome face and army jacket?” Beth squealed from her office and Yuri almost growled as Nikolai smiled. “He didn’t look at _all_ like Aliya’s son.”

“He has changed.” Nikolai gave Yuri a curious, funny look, as he blushed.

“ _Dedushka_!” Yuri smiled, but tried to cover it with the neck of his sweater. Still, the rose points of his ears told his grandpa how _bothered_ the mere thought of Beka could get him.

“It seems you’re on a bit of a hassle, now.” The older man concluded after his grandson’s embarrassment disappeared.

“A _bit_.” Yuri snorted. “I ruined my life and future.”

Yuri’s arm was pinched suddenly.

“ _Ouch_!” He looked up to Nikolai who looked like he was about to scold him. “What was _that_ for?!”

“Yuri.” Oh, he _was_. “Your life does not depend on a couple of boys. “No matter how good-looking they are.”

“Grandpa, that’s not what I-”

“Don’t interrupt me.” He was commanded. “You are a great dancer who is about to go on another tour. You have classes to teach and to assist, friends to hang out and a cat who, for all she _needs_ , could be already your daughter! You have me and Vitya and his lovely fiancé. There are people who need you, your students and co-workers. Me, Beth, Dr. Kipling. Your future is not only a wedding and a husband. It is a stage, a thousand stages around the world! Songs to be danced, _Yuri_. I don’t want to ever hear you be so dramatic over a couple of boys who clearly have issues.”

Yuri looked at his grandpa, mouth falling open and eyes round as plates.

_He was incredible._

“I love you.” Yuri launched to him, arms wrapping his now skinny frame and face buried on his chest. Nikolai coughed a couple of times before returning the gesture. “ _Lyublyu tebya_.”

“You haven’t been speaking it much, have you?” Nikolai ticked him off once more. “I thought you were choking with this long hair before I understood what you meant. You need to come over and scream with me about this mad country in ours.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, not letting him go still.

“I love you too, my child.” Nikolai kissed his head. “I wish you could see this is not over, yet. I can’t say I understand what you’re going through but I do know you’re struggling. I do know it’s not easy, for you love both.” Yuri nodded. “But the distance will serve you well, the time won’t harm. It is for the best that you leave now, so when you come back you can make your decision, because I trust you will have one before stepping foot in this town again.”

“You have too much faith in me.”

Nikolai shook his head.

“I know my kid.”  He sighed. “He’s the most beautiful child in the world, but he rages with the intensity of a million suns and has a mouth bigger than he should. He’s smart and understanding even when he’s intimidating, aggressive; for he seems to be mad at the world all the time.”

Yuri chuckled.

“Okay enough, _shef_.”

“But why does it matter? In the end he only means, and _does_ , well. Give him time to think and he shall solve the world’s problems by himself.” His hand brushed the blonde locks of soft hair, tangling his fragile fingers on it.

“ _Grandpa_ …”

“Just put him under lock and key, he has a tendency to get overly distracted by handsome faces and cute smiles.”

“You’re the _worst_!” Yuri screeched before laughing, leaning more on his grandpa as they cackled together. Then, the younger breathed deeply. “You always make me feel so _dumb_ ; you see the world and my problems with such simplicity it makes me feel stupid for complicating things in my head. But I don’t have the clarity that you do.”

“And you won’t until you’ve lived what _I’ve_ lived. And that leaves you another fifty years of both headache and heartache. So don’t sweat it, Yurochka. You have a long way to go, just remember to think.”

“But what if I’m not capable of solving anything?” He wondered, worried.

“Then come and talk to me. I can’t say I will solve everything for you, but I can offer some piece of mind.” Nikolai sighed, leaning more on the pillows. “And, I could use more visits. Don’t get me wrong, I love Beka and Jean’s nice. But they’re not my children.”

Yuri bit his lip, nodding as he kissed his grandpa’s hands.

“I’m sorry. I will.” He sniffed. “Even if it’s not for advice, I promise I’ll come more often.”

Nikolai nodded.

“How fragile all this dancing has turned you.” His hand released Yuri’s hair and caressed his face, loving. “But it also gave you such a big, beautiful heart… Don’t let your present deceive you, I know that when you come back you’ll figure out everything. It’s only a matter of thought, and you will know where your love lies. It will be hard, but you will know when you’ve made up your mind. And everything will _be_ fine.”

Yuri nodded, pressing his cheek against Nikolai’s hand.

“ _Da_. _Spasiba_ , _Dedushka_.” He rose and tied his hair on a top ponytail. “Now, enough of this crybaby shit-”

“ _Yurochka_ …”

Yuri giggled.

“Did you have lunch, already?” Nikolai shook his head. “Great. Let’s grab a bite and I’ll show you some of my rehearsal tapes. What’d you think?”

“Fine by me.” Nikolai pressed some button besides his bed.

“I feel like _borscht_ but a stew will do.”

“I’ll let Victor now.” Yuri shook his head, smiling to himself. “For when I come back, maybe we can take you to his place. Yuuri can also make Katsudon and we’ll make _pirozhki_.”

“ _Da_. That sounds nice.”

Yuri smiled at him, crooked fang and all, just to show him his gratitude. If god allowed him, Yuri would like to spend another ten years with him just like this.

_The only man that would never break his heart was Nikolai himself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* happy pride month, y'all  
> Thanks for reading! ♡ See you next time xx


	10. Cracked Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing unbreakable in this world.   
> People, from all ther is, happen to be the most fragile ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *alcohol induced ooc-ness ahead*  
> Only one (1) ! ! chapter to go, thanks for reading ♡

The tour rolled around smoothly, allowing Yuri to think more than he ever thought possible.

The roads were wide and quiet, even for a bus filled with prime class dancers, and the nights seem long enough for him to think about every single step he had ever made in his life.

It was finding peace for the first time.

He never considered the black sky beautiful, the starless expanse to be some kind of comfort for a worn heart and tired eyes. Yuri would’ve never looked up in the night to smile, to relax and breath without much in his mind but the schedule for the next day. He liked the little hotel rooms, the big theatres and the music ringing on his ears even hours after a successful presentation. Everything was so little, almost poor, in meaning and that was exactly what he wanted and needed the most.

He realized he was fine by himself.

_Even if it was only for that moment._

“Somebody called you an angel fueled by a million thunder bolts on _The Post_.” Yuuri came by to their balcony, sitting down on the edge of it, legs hanging by the spaces between the iron bars. “I think it is very _fitting_.” He snickered and Yurio rolled his eyes, taking the papers in his hands to read the latest critique.

“That’s too kind of them.” He replied, quickly glancing over the printed words about the performance and the most outstanding participations of other dancers.

“I don’t think so.” Yuuri scrunched up his nose, smiling.

“Whatever, Katsudon.” Yuri smacked the newspaper over his best friend’s head ad laughed when the other snorted.

“Mean!”

They laughed for a couple of moments after that, breathing in the cold air before lowering their gazes to the avenue underneath them. To the city that expanded around the hotel and the people buzzing still this late in the night to their homes, or even jobs. Yuri watched them curiously, wondering how could they just keep going with their lives in spite of every single hardship they could ever face at any moment. He wanted to know them, walk a mile in their shoes and see the world from a different perspective.

Sometimes his own was way too tiring.

“Otabek called me.” Yuuri said in the end, after several minutes of silence between them. A wailing siren of an ambulance passed by and Yuri sighed with a heaviness in his heart that he couldn’t figure out.

“What’d he say?” He asked slowly, voice not rising from a mumble.

“He only wanted me to let you know that he got his paycheck for his mechanic workshop. He’ll be opening it as soon as winter starts.” He sighed.

Yuri’s eyes widened in utter surprise.

“That- that means…” He gasped, clutching the newspaper against his chest as he stared at Yuri. “That means he’s not going back to war… _ever_.”

Yuuri nodded. 

“That’s all he told me.” His smile was apologetic, but Yuri couldn’t care less about anything but the fact that Otabek was going to stay forever at their city. No doubt about it. He wouldn’t go ever again to anywhere and he… and he could be with him forever.

_Only if he had him back._

He wondered, for a split second, if Otabek could hate him now after all he already did. If he couldn’t forgive him, his lies and doubts, and ending up leaving him behind so he could move on. Yuri pictured him walking around the city with some other pretty boy, a gorgeous girl, both small yet strong or even completely different from Yuri himself. He could see Otabek taking the sun with a dark-skinned girl or braiding other boy’s hair, much curlier and rougher to the touch, perhaps. He would look _stunning_ with anyone by his side. His smile would be so big, so bright and so sincere when they kissed that Yuri would never have the heart to call him out on anything he could ever do.  Yuri wondered if he would be forgotten, left on the sidelines.

But he _knew_ , at the same time, that it would never happen.

 _Otabek was waiting for him_.

He told him so. But how far did his patience reach?

“You know we still have a hell of a tour ahead, so don’t overthink any of this.” Yuuri got up after kissing Yurio’s head. “You will be fine.”

Yuri only nodded, still lost in his thoughts, as he breathed in the cold air of an unknown city and thought of warm eyes that would follow him wherever he would go.

It was true, that Yuri never found comfort on big cities and bright lights.

But the prospect of roaming the stone streets, hand in hand, turning off their own lights and sleeping on a bed that would make up for the lack of warmth of the block with Otabek made him _yearn_ for all of it.

 _Suddenly_.

Yuri suddenly felt like calling him once more, listening his voice and going to sleep with that low rumble of his laughter banging the inside of his head like his own version of a lullaby. He could tell him about the critics, the wonderful response of the crowd and the public to his own dancing and the one of his friends. How he loved the road trips and how much he hated the airplanes. Yuri could picture Otabek laughing at him, endearing but still mocking his reactions towards the world and the life he had chosen since he knew when. It was all so clear, how they would speak until             Guang-Hong, probably, would smack Yurio in the face with a pillow for staying up all night and then they would have to hang up. Yuri would sigh and after whispering his goodbyes, wishing him a good sleep, he would hang up with a wide grin that wouldn’t fade even once he closed his eyes.

He could see it all so clear.

Clearer than the lights of the nightclub in the distance, than the stars in the sky and the moon looming over him like a judging eye that kept him awake in the middle of the night along with Otabek’s image behind his eyelids.

_He missed him the most._

-♡-

 

“Mr. Leroy will see you now.” The receptionist said to Otabek after several minutes of waiting.

He cleared his throat and thanked the boy behind the desk with a simple word before turning to the door that was being opened besides him.

Otabek breathed in and walked towards it, easing the non-existent creases of his uniform as he saw Jean standing in the middle of his office.

“ _Commander_.” He was greeted by him, Otabek reached for his hand and they shook it briefly before they stared down at each other. “May I offer you a drink? Water, coffee?”

“I’m fine, thank you. Also, thanks for having me on such a short notice.” Otabek said, biting his lip. “I didn't mean to come to bother you…”

Jean nodded and pointed at the chair in front of his desk as he sat behind it.

“It's fine.” His eyes looked like real steel under the lightning of his office. Otabek wondered how they could hold any kind of warmth or affection. “I really like your uniform. It suits you.”

Otabek's chest puffed with pride.

“Thank you.” He bowed slightly. “I'm having a regional meeting after this so I thought I should just throw it on by now.”

Jean smiled briefly.

“Practical. Of course.” He shook his head, smiling unbelievingly too himself. “So how are you?”

Otabek tilted his head, curious on the other man’s actions.  

“I'm fine, thank you. And you?”

“Can't complain; thank you, too.” He watched the clock behind Otabek and stared at it for a moment before speaking. “How's everything been? I believe you’re all settled by now.”

Otabek nodded, still calculating JJ’s words.

During war, he used to be on a tactical team that was used to calculate every single second of battle between his squad and the enemy troops. Otabek picked up habits like this out of fear and doubt, the silences and the stares that could be considered rude for the rest of the people. But he preferred the analysis of the people in front of him, mostly with the unknown ones, rather than getting surprises out of blind trust and ending up hurt. On the battlefield it could get him killed, now _probably_ not so much. But he was a creature of habits.

“How's therapy going?”

He clenched his jaw. ‘ _That’s_ _why_ ’, he thought. He felt his shoulders raise and his breath hitched for a second.

“Ah _fuck_. Sorry, didn't mean to…” Otabek shook his head, evening his breathing and rolling his shoulders to focus on his body rather than his feelings. At least that’s what his therapist intended him to do.  

“No, no. Don't worry.” He sighed. “I didn't know you… _know_.”

“Yuri told me a bit about it. After the incident of the theatre, he explained to me why you snapped. I thought you were only being defensive...” He turned around and pulled a couple of little orange tubes from a drawer to show Otabek. “Adderall. Stronger than that, but it’s easier to call it that way...”

Otabek only rose an eyebrow and Jean laughed breathlessly.

“I can't pretend I know what you're going through but I understand your position.” He dropped the tubes back into the cabinet and relished on Otabek's small smile. He was quite handsome when he didn't look _murderous_.

“Well, I'm glad you do.” Otabek leaned a bit more on his chair, relaxing his back as he did so. “I apologize for the way I reacted that day and the other night; but, y’know… Combat isn’t precisely made to soften you.”

JJ’s eyes were blown wide for a second, he nodded before leaning on his desk. Elbows propped up on the wooden surface as his eyes bore holes into Otabek´s face.

“I guess we both have our ways of being jerks.” He admitted. “But don't worry. I wasn't kind as well. Thankfully, we have Yuri. He had us both by the throats as soon as we started to hawk venom.”

“Ah, Yura.” Otabek’s voice dropped an octave by pronouncing his name that way. It sounded foreign even if it was only the switch of one single letter. “He's always been quite controlling. To say the least.” Otabek smirked mischievously. “Didn't know he had you on a leash, thought.”

Jean laughed.

“Ah, _man_! Like you’re not wrapped around his finger, too.” Otabek rolled his eyes. “Truth be told, I know _we_ just won't say no to him. Ever.”

“Hard to believe when you have proven yourself to be a total ass.” Jean clicked his tongue and Otabek only nodded at him. Not even sorry for what he said. “You're lucky he was there. Otherwise nothing would’ve stopped me from giving you quite a run for your money.”

Jean didn't even _blink_ at that.

“I know, _Commander_.”

 _They both new it_.

Otabek nodded before speaking.

“We can't keep this shit up. God knows what Yuri's going through with all of this. It must be really hard for him and I don't want to cause him any more suffering. We already put him in danger. _Both_ of us.” He approached to the table. “I'm sorry. _Honestly_.”

It took a couple of seconds for Jean to answer.

“I'm sorry too.” He looked at the clock once more. “I wish things were different. I don’t mean any harm, especially not to you. I don’t hate you- _shit_ , I barely even _know_ you. I truly hope everything works out, and for you to get better too, Commander.”

“Thank you. It means a lot to me.” Otabek was about to bow his head, when Jean spoke again.

And what he said made him look straight into those blue eyes with much more than curiosity.

“I was impressed by the fierce loyalty you have for Yuri. The way you looked at him was almost… _adoration_. I only see those eyes on _Maman_ when she’s praying at our church back on Quebec, on _Easter_.” Beka blushed, and he mentally cursed himself for it. “I must ask, how _back_ do you really go?”

“Middle school.” Otabek said, pride dripping on the corner of that tiny smile. “We’ve been best friends for _forever_ , but we keep going back to each other as much, _much_ more. I wish I could tell you more, but the depth and extent of it is far too wide to even _try_ it. All you have to know that, if there’s someone who knows Yuri, it’s me. We’ve been through a lot.”

“I _know_ , commander. Yet, you can’t possibly think Yuri has not changed in the past five years.” His tone was self-sufficient.

“Superficially, _yes_. But inside he’s the same as ever. I know it.” Otabek’s smile grew with superiority. “There are things that not even absence can damage, Jean.”

He pressed his lips on a tight line.

“I suppose.” He shook his head, trying to remain unreadable to the soldier. Little did he know that Otabek had him figured out almost _ages_ ago. “So, if I may ask… Why the army?”

Otabek’s face turned stone-cold once more.

“I suppose you wouldn’t understand what’s like to scrape every dollar off of your boyfriend’s scholarship to eat for a day, after paying rent and buying the basics for his career and your work.” Jean, surprised, shook his head; he was intimidated by the rawness on his words. “Well _I_ do. And if I was going to _ever_ marry Yura, I had to help on our house. I wanted to provide for him as much as he did for me. I just wanted things to be even, but also easier. But as a kid, who dropped out of college, there was not much besides retailing and, I don’t know, waiting gigs for me. And as much honor there’s on those jobs, on any job, it wouldn’t be enough.”

Jean waited for him to proceed.

“You see, I bet you _don’t_ understand. I can tell from a thousand miles that you had no problems coming here from Canada. You never felt an empty stomach and your pockets were always full, money has never been an issue to you…”

“You’re right.”

Otabek nodded. Of course he was.

_He wasn’t so fucking jealous out of nothing._

“So I worked my ass off every fucking day. I swear I did, but it was never enough. I grew desperate, Yura almost got sick from stress and worry. I had an _insignificant_ mechanic workshop and, one day, some Marine came with his bike for me to fix. It was beautiful but as much as I liked working on it I couldn’t help but wonder how he afforded it. The thing was _priceless_ … And I asked. Then he invited me and that was it. When he told me about the service payment I couldn’t think of anything else. I went and after one single month I was already sending Yuri twice what we needed. But since I was away...”

“He didn’t need it.” Jean jumped on his answer.

“I checked the account every time I could. He never used a dime.” Otabek sighed. “And he knew the money was _his_. I thought it was some sort of pride thing, like he was not going to use it because I _left_. But then I realized that, without me there, he could manage just fine. He moved out of our place and he only had to feed himself. He only had to buy things for himself… I thought I was in his way.”

He still had problems getting used to the cold, empty apartment that he used to share with Yuri. He knew it was stupid when they moved in together, both way too young to know better, but know it just felt wrong to be there by himself. And now that money’s not an issue, all Otabek ever wanted was to have Yuri back with him for good. There were so many spaces that _had_ to be filled by him… But Beka wouldn’t dare to ask just yet. God knows what Yuri must think of that place right now. And after living with Jean, who probably lived downtown and had high-end furniture on every inch of his place, maybe Yuri wouldn’t want less. Maybe he had already been conditioned for more.

 _After all, it’s what_ he _deserved._

Otabek bit his lip furiously, trying to drive away those resentful thoughts from his head.

“That’s why I didn’t take my first year leave, or my second. Then, when I wanted to come back, I started to get promoted and more money came by. I knew Yuri was not going to use it, but when I came back I would’ve had saved enough to take care for him… of _us_. So I stayed. Then his letters stopped and, I don’t know. I was hooked and I believed, I _wanted_ to believe, he was fine. So the Army solved everything. Yuri finished his career, turned much more talented and focused. He was great as an artist and performer. He… _flourished_.”

“But you were the roots of his blooming.” Jean pointed out. Otabek only shrugged.

“That didn’t matter. I left him and he felt alone so, so he found you. And I’m thankful for that. We broke up when I left. But we never made it clear enough so all this mess happened. The engagement was also stupid and reckless, getting in the way until today.”

“I _swear_ I didn’t know anything. If I had ever _known_ about you…”

Otabek raised his hand, a signal of stop. 

“You _didn’t_ have to know. This is all because of miscommunication. When I came back and he showed me the ring, I thought I still had my shot. But, I guess I’m just stupid.”

“ _Fuck off_.” Jean snorted. “That’s not it.”

Otabek rolled his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter anymore. We’re all back to square one, and you’re in the picture now.”

Jean nodded, laughing silently to himself.

“I wondered how you were like.” He cleared his throat. “For Yuri to like you so much, I mean.”

“You mean for running after me when I came back?”

Jean rolled his eyes and nodded, he had been _read_ already, after all.

“Pretty much.” He bit his lip. “But now I can see it, _almost_ … Plus, there's clearly something in your heart that I will always lack. Even for him.”

Otabek tilted his head.

“And that _is_?”

“ _Sacrifice_.” The word came out thrown up, almost in disgust. Jean scrunched up his nose and Otabek retreated on his own seat. The feeling he got from that word was strikingly similar to the rush of surprise that comes after the first bullet on crossfire. “You're willing to give him up if that means _happiness_ for him. You could just let him go if you had to.”

Otabek’s pink cheeks grew hotter, but he didn't answer.

“You're much more of a man than I am.” Jean said and rubbed his eyes. “I can't be mad at you anymore. I _admire_ you, Commander.”

“I’m… surprised. Thank you.”

Jean squinted at that, but instead of following that up he just smiled even brighter.

“You still forgive him for all of this. I think there's something greater in you, after all.” He took his already cold cup of coffee and drank from it, not even wincing from the bitterness of it. “I couldn’t do it. If I were you. I mean, I had trouble coming to terms with all of this after that day in the theatre. I must admit the only reason that made me want to see Yuri again was mere _habit_.”

“There's nothing ‘bigger’. I only wanted him back. I'm _selfish_.” JJ, taken back, didn't say anything else after that. Beka proceeded “What’s all this about?”

 “Yuri.” JJ whispered the name like a prayer.

“Ah, Commander. I wish I had more to say to you about him but I truly don’t know what you want to hear.”

“What we're doing to Yuri isn't fair. As much as I love him, I can't say he’s coming off clean but we should be doing better. There's something that has to be settled between us, you know it too. ”

“I will say _this_ , no matter what the circumstances are, he doesn’t deserve to be put in this position.” Jean sighed. “It’s not fair for him to be under the pressure of a _choice_ when either one of us can make a better one. I mean we should make an agreement between us even before Yuri makes a decision.”

“I’m glad you _do_ understand what I meant.” Otabek breathed deeply in relief.

“I don't think any of us is meant to be with him, even if there's such a thing as fate, we should earn him.”

“There is.” Otabek almost barked in response. “Fate is what drove me away from him and out you two together. Fate does work in this world, and it’s only in us to listen to it or not, that’s something you do get from combat… Yet this isn’t about earning him _for_ _shit_. It’s about what’s for the best.”

“I know.” JJ cracked his knuckles and Beka looked like he was about to hiss.

“I love Yuri.” Jean breathed out as Otabek spoke. “Truly. And not only as best friends but as if he was the love of my life.”

“I love Yuri, too.” JJ finished his coffee, cringing now against the taste. “With all I am.”

Otabek nodded.

“I'm relieved to hear so. A part of me hates that you _do_ but an even bigger part was afraid you didn't. That you wanted him for the looks or…”

“His age.” Jean completed before rolling his eyes. “Not the first one to suggest it, Commander.”

“Otabek is fine.” His eyes narrowed. “It's good to hear that. Now, we both understand Yuri is single now.”

“I do.”

“And that it is not fair to be talking about this without him around.” His voice was annoyed, but his eyes showed a determination that only a man who has survived war could show.

JJ only nodded.  

“I can’t say I’m sorry though.” Jean gave him a cocky smirk. “But what does this assure me? _Nothing_.”

“ _Right_.”

 “So what comes next? He’s gone and we can’t follow him around the country just for the favor of his love, or whatever.” JJ pressed. “Talking behind his back it’s not right but this is not about him only. Is it?”

“We both know the truth.”  Otabek’s frame looked worsened by the frustration he was surely feeling in that moment. “Once he comes back he will bring a decision with himself. If we’re lucky, one of us will be blessed with his company. But chances are that he won’t want us ever again, too.”

“I believe you and I know that, whatever he decides, whoever he chooses, we will respect his wishes.” Jean was not even negotiating, and he was pretty damn good at that. But Yuri went beyond him and Otabek.

_They both knew it._

“But I do _know_ what this is all about. And I’ll say it as clearly as possible, for _him_ : I step back from this. From Yuri. You can run after him all you want, but if even after that he wants me I wish you do it to. You will let go.”

Otabek’s initial intentions had been, surprisingly, right. He had not come by to say hi to Jean and talk about his past with Yuri.        He was there because, after all, he truly expected him to understand what was happening with Yuri away. Otabek understood, too, that there was a very big possibility of his best friend not wanting him as a lover ever again, and that there were plenty other paths for him to take. And, whatever it was, he would accept either of them with no second thoughts. Yet he hadn’t been turned down, so he would fight with all he had for him. Yuri was not going to be taken away from him just like _that_.

But he needed Jean out of the way. He was a distraction for both Yuri and him.

“What's the catch?” Otabek asked.

He knew he couldn’t carry Jean, and what he meant, around. He was a shadow of his failure as a partner and as a friend, as a lover and even more. He meant his time away, his time at war. Jean was a reflection of what he was not, and of what he would never be. He got _enraged_ just by the thought of not being able to be better than him, of not being able to be _him_ as a whole. Otabek lost a lot of time comparing himself to this one man he knew that if he didn’t stop, that if he kept trying to duplicate him, Yuri wouldn’t get him out of his head either. He would be hung up on him forever because Otabek wouldn’t be himself.

That was why he was there.

_To get over him._

In the most _bizarre_ of ways.

JJ shook his head.

“None.” He sighed. “You're the best he could have. Even if I hate to admit so. And I might not be as sacrificial as you, but I don't want him feeling, or _knowing_ , he could do better when he’s with me. I'm all about _excellence_ , in the end.”

“So, this is no ‘ _let the best man win_ ’ bullshit.” Otabek rose, not wanting to hear another word. “I hope we both are good people, and we will respect the other and Yuri. Whatever the end of all this is.”

Jean nodded, smirking.

“I can see why you two come from such a long way. Also, I must give you props for putting up with one young Yuri during his adolescence. Must’ve been quite a handful.” They both chuckled. “I feel that if we weren’t at this crossroad, you and I would’ve been very good friends. There’s something calm, almost _alluring_ , in you, Otabek.”

He bowed at the compliment.

“I never thought you’d be up to exchanging pleasantries.” He smiled, widely and sincerely then. “But I know what you mean. I have to thank you for taking care of Yura, too. It was selfish of me to leave him with nothing but a ring on his finger. You loved him and even if I was away you made sure he was never alone. I wish we weren’t in this situation. You’re the kind of man anyone wishes to have in their lives.”

Jean crossed his arms over his chest.

“Thank you.” He guided him to the door. “Listen…” JJ called him before he crossed the frame.

“Yeah?”

“If he dumps us both, you know where to find me.” He winked, jokingly and Otabek barked an honest, delighted, laugh.

“You _wish_.” He pointed back, humor lightening up his features.

“I do. But I don’t know if I could ever date someone way hotter than me. My ego couldn’t handle it.” Otabek laughed, shaking his head. “Can’t blame me for trying, though.”

“You’re funny.” Was the other man’s answer. “And I won’t, but since I wouldn’t want to harm your self-esteem I guess we’re better off as acquaintances.”

Jean nodded, suddenly he looked sad. Hurt, too.

“Don't throw away this, Otabek.” He said. “Do things _right_.”

He only nodded.

“Before I have to.” JJ completed.

_But Otabek  wasn't up for threats._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Yuri stared at his phone for almost an hour, thinking if he should actually _do_ it.

It's just… he missed him _so_ much.

He wondered how he would react, what could he do if he actually answered. Yuri wanted to know if he was awake, if he thought of him or if he even wanted to speak to him as much as Yuri wanted to. He was drowning on his imagination, picturing him just there by his side, holding him and even kissing him slowly and tenderly. Yuri wanted him _so bad_ that just a call could make him feel content, satiated from this carnivorous urgency of touch an attention that would remain unattended for _days_ , at least. But he couldn't do anything. He couldn't call him even if he _wanted_ to.

_More than anything else._

Yuri bit his lip, viciously pulling his hair as he tried his best to breathe calmly. What could he _do_ now?

He gazed over at the window of his hotel room, Guang Hong and Yuuri were out for dinner and he stayed, sleeping in, until he woke up wanting to feel someone next to him. The night was cold and lonely, like he grew to like them, but despite the usual calm that would wash over him on moments like this he just felt like he was drowning. Yuri sensed that even if he closed his eyes there was no way in heaven or hell that he could actually rest in spite of how much he slept. 

Yuri realized it had been so long without him he actually felt like going back to the city just to see him, even if it was crazy of him to even _imagine_ he could just do so without messing something else up.

But, what else was there to do?

He couldn't call. He couldn’t do much but lay on his bed and waiting for either exhaustion catch up with him or tears to make him even more tired than he already was. He didn’t have the _right_ to call, and that was what hurt him the most. Usually he would just do it but know he wouldn’t at all, it was not on his place to do so or at least he felt it that way. He couldn’t see him, couldn’t touch him, couldn’t even _hear_ him,

So he did what he always does.

Thinking of him until his dreams were nicer to Yuri.

_He was used to it._

 

**-** **♡** **-**

Otabek couldn't just _run_ after Yuri.

_So he wrote._

He wrote a reply for every letter Yuri ever wrote to him but never sent.

The last three years or so, when Otabek was on war, were deeply marked by Yuri’s absence. Not even the physical one, but the one that was about his letters and his casual polaroids that Yura used to take with his grandpa’s old camera. It erupted loneliness in Otabek, turning him deaf to the sound of raging bullets and heavy explosions that didn’t pull him out of his violent sense of longing and pinning.

When Yura stopped writing, Otabek did too. He still wondered if, in case that he continued to write to him, Yuri would’ve somehow sent something back one day. But he never came to it, for he felt that Yuri must’ve had _had_ a reason to stop their correspondence.

 _That was what hurt the most_.

But he ignored it, for now he knew Yuri _never_ actually stopped and now it was on Otabek to let him know how much he had missed him, how he never stopped thinking about him.

Otabek replied to all those packages of sheets and envelopes that never saw the light of the sun or felt other box than the one Yuri had put them in. He spent every moment he had, when he was available at work and back from it late in the afternoon, to grab any pencil or pen and scribble his thoughts and feelings as he felt them coming with every word he read. Like in the army, he felt like he didn't have much time to wrap his mind around every letter and feel them tenderly as he thought of an appropriate answer. He knew, by now, that anything his head could come up with would be just fine. It was better than any reflected piece of mind that would come out too forced out of his head. He was a quiet man of instinct, he and Yuri knew, and they would much rather be honest and sincere the way they just _were_ rather than pretending to be someone else by thinking too hard.

Otabek still had a workshop to put together and even if his days were filled with oil and the loud noises of tools and machinery he still sat down at any given moment with a notepad and a pen, some letters he had already read and got to write as much as he could.

His mind would flow fearlessly and his hand moved along with it.

_It was so natural._

Otabek smiled to himself as he saw a Polaroid of a slightly younger Yuri and Potya in the grass attached to a long letter about the end of semester from Yuri’s fourth college year. Beka had finished replying to that one and saved the little picture on his wallet for later before he opened another soft envelop.

Somebody on the workshop was asking for him but he didn’t even lifted his face from where he was seated, instead he watched Yuri’s faded red lipstick mark inside the envelop he tore open.

Otabek's brow furrowed as he realized this one was much nicer than the others. The sachet was black and sleek, pretty much bigger than the others and it had a golden wax seal that had closed it _perfectly_. He wondered what would need such an elegant packaging but as soon as pulled out the ivory, rough paper he found himself an answer. The letter was no other than the Dean's special congratulations for Yuri's development within the Academy the last few years. He was being praised as an artist and performer, as well as a dancer and it seemed like the former head of the arts school truly felt attached to the fiery student. The letter was long and professional, almost unemotional except for those lines where the author seemed to us every word he could think of to bring out how much he hoped Yuri would follow his undeniable path as an artist.

It was something else, to say the least.

Otabek didn't really understand why it was along with every other letter that seemed to be only for him. Maybe Yuri just dumped it in the box and got mixed with what he had written.

_But Yuri wasn’t like that._

Then he turned the envelope around and found a scribbled note in some kind of silver ink, messy and flowing among the dark paper that read: ‘I _’m out here already making headlines and you're too far from me to read them. So have 'em…_ ’ And a little heart, albeit small, to top all of it.

The little note was not accusatory but still felt like a remark of his _own_ absence and it made Otabek's chest tighten at the image of Yuri, receiving the letter and pressing his lips as he thought of who he wanted to share it in the first place. It made Beka feel guilty; after all _he_ had been gone for far too much time. But what could he do, now that _he_ was back but Yuri _wasn't_ next to him?

It wasn't that complicated once he actually thought about it.

He would have to make him feel better now.

Otabek realized that after the many letters he had replied to already, he hadn't even told Yuri half of what he still had go tell him.

 _Like how fucking_ proud _he was._

So he did, because he still had time to let Yuri know about it.

Otabek spent all of his free time writing. All of the moments he had were used on his own commitment to never let a letter unanswered of the dozens he seemed to have with him. Those that were never sent out of fear, regret, doubt and pain, would now be carefully replied to.

He wouldn't hold them back anymore.

Yuri had much, much to know and Otabek would let him know _everything_ as long as he could.

He didn’t care, answering to the letters that featured Jean or Yuuri and Victor, to his fiery rants and pissed-off monologues about his classmates or the hospital staff. Otabek came to know a lot about Lila and Nikolai, replying to Yuri’s angst and distress as much to his happiness and joy. He advised him even if it was too late, he prayed for him too and cared for every word that laid on the paper he now had the privilege to read. No word was left behind, making Otabek’s replies range from long and elaborate to short and simple. It all depended on the first letter but it was still an emotional ride he somehow didn’t want to get off of.

_And he sent them._

**-** **♡** **-**

Victor stopped by at the middle of the tour at the coast, smiling proudly at both his cousin and fiancé when he made it backstage after another presentation.

“You two!” He cheered, kissing both in their foreheads. “I'm so proud of you! You were _beautiful_!”

Yuuri snorted against his husband’s-to-be shoulder and kissed his cheek.

“It's so nice of you to drop by.” He said, clutching to his waist like a lifeline.

_They were awfully cute._

Yuri was slightly intimidated by the affection; they were always so open and _honest_ about their feelings and honestly scared the younger just a bit. He wanted to be like them but he knew it was just somehow hard for him. He would rather be burnt alive than admitting this out loud but Yuri _did_ look up at them.

Anyways, Yuri still hugged Victor a little longer than he usually would before letting him go, pretending like nothing actually happened.

It was the first time in _so_ long Yuri actually felt grateful having around.

“Yura?” Victor asked as soon as he felt the younger pressing his frame against the smaller. He brushed one loose strand of golden hair and swayed his knuckles across the peach-soft cheek. Yuri almost blushed in embarrassment and scooted closer to Yuuri, like he was trying to hide himself. “What's wrong?”

Victor, turned out, had an _actual_ paternal instinct in him that sometimes flared up in moments of fragility like this.

 _Yuri fucking hated it_.

He shook his head, like nothing was wrong, and walked away from the couple. He heard his best friend sigh and when he looked back Yuuri was murmuring something to Victor on his ear. The worried expression and the line of his lips gave away the feeling of conspiracy between the two of them.

Yuri shook his head and walked away.

He wanted to _say something_ , but he couldn't.

Yuri knew Victor should be the _first_ person he had to talk to, open up to him and kindly ask for his ear and advice since he needed it the most. Family usually was heavy on some people's hearts but for Yuri, when it came up to his _obnoxious_ cousin, it was where he could rely the most.

So what was holding him back?

Victor wasn't judgmental; he was patient and loved to hear anyone who was brave enough to fully bear themselves to him. He was thoughtful and generous, never keeping a word to himself when anyone asked him for a piece of his mind. Victor was that _one_ person that wouldn't think wrongly of one, despite what they did, and chose to love no matter what. He was so, _so loving_ and helping Yuri sometimes felt overwhelmed by his kindness and good intentions. He was always that one person everybody looked up to.

 _Like Yuri did_.

Truth be told, he couldn't stand a day longer having all bottled up. Yuri used to think this tour would help him, clear his head and make him breathe easily once again. He truly hoped the distance and the time would be of use to him but now… Now he felt _trapped_ , like he couldn't get an ounce of peace beacuse there was so much he wanted to say and he just kept it all buried on his heart.

Because there was just so much he felt, it was annoying.

Later that same night, the dancer had dinner with Victor and Yuuri, a couple of hours after their presentation on some Italian restaurant by the beach. The air was warm and the ocean's waves pulled a soft flutter of sand like music around the venue. It was warmly lit and the food smelled, and tasted, amazing.

“I told Lauren I didn't want any more peonies on the centerpieces but I didn't know if you'd want it that way too. So I also wanted to ask.”

Yuri rolled his eyes as he watched his best friend carefully.

“You know I don't mind too much about the centerpieces or anything like that. Whatever you choose I'll like.” He turned from Victor’s cellphone to his fiancé and kissed his cheek quickly. Yuri sipped his wine and waited for the next words to be out in the air. “But the wedding plans can wait. Now, how are you feeling now, Yuri?”

_Ah, there it was._

He shrugged and but his garlic bread without much energy, trying to look away from the curious eyes of the men in front of him. Far in the distance he could see the stone oven burning red and bright, cooking pizzas and bread inside as the chef moved around in urgency. He breathed deeply and looked back to Victor as he shook his head.

“I'm fine.” Was all he said before adding, “Thanks.”

Victor bit his lip and drank from his own wine before reaching for Yuri's smaller hand.

“You know you can tell us anything.”

“You're not my dad.” He barked out of the blue.

“Well thank _God_ I'm not…” He snorted slightly. “I just want you to know that I'm here and that Yuuri's here. You can always count the on us.”

The younger didn't reply as the waitress came with another large platter of pasta and a large pizza for them to share. She exchanged the dirty plates for clean ones and poured more wine into the Russians’ cups before offering Yuuri another soda water.

After that they ate in silence, a bit awkward at the beginning but the alcohol on Victor's and Yuri's system helped to ease the environment until they were all warm and content with the food and the night. It didn't seem like it was getting colder at any moment so Yuri offered to pay for the dinner as the couple went to walk by the beach. They went away with soft giggles and blushed cheeks that turned redder with kisses and hugs until they disappeared into the night. Yuri looked at them go, feeling better now that they were off and that innocent but unshakeable pressure was gone with them.

He knew they only meant good but sometimes they were as _cruel_ as his own conscious. Even if they meant the best.

“Can I get you something else?” The waitress asked once she brought his paid tab. “We still have some tiramisu and gelato… maybe a cone?”

Yuri smiled gently, the girl that had been attending them was sweet and allured him like a little sister would.

“Lila is going to _kill_ me.” He muttered to himself before nodding at the girl. “Sure. That'd be great.” He stood up and followed the waitress to the gelato bar, feeling a heaviness in his step that would need caffeine to fade before he fell asleep on the marble counter.

Yuri wasn’t drunk, exactly, but he was on that thin veil set in the middle from rage and desire that turned him into a much friendlier person that he actually was. When he started drinking he would usually turn a little bit angrier, like he did back at the table, before stepping into this curious land where he was someone entirely different and that was followed by the burning heat that would lay on the pit of his stomach for the whole night.

“Could I have an espresso, too?” He asked, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, he _could_ fall asleep soon, too.

“Sure!” She nodded. “What flavor would you like your cone?”

Yuri shook his head to dissipate the awkward cheerful haze and read carefully the tags on the freezer.

“Uh, I don't know maybe caram-is that _éclair_?!” He gasped.

The waitress smiled as she worked the coffee machine before she laughed softly.

“It is.” She twisted some knobs and poured a small cup of steaming espresso for Yuri. “You can taste some if you want.”

“I shouldn't… although I _really_ want some.” He whined and took the cup in his hands before he sipped it. It was bitter and perfectly strong.

“Then why not?” She asked, approaching the bar.

“I'm… I'm a dancer. A _Ballet_ dancer so I have a really strict diet and believe me today I ate what I should eat in like _a week_.”

The waitress giggled once more.

“Look if you already broke your diet for today maybe just go big about it!” She winked. “Don't you have a cheat day or something like that?”

Yuri almost choked on his espresso.

“I _have_!” He laughed. “Oh my God I have and I haven't really had one in _years_! Probably I shouldn't have with my alcohol intake but...” He shrugged.

The girl swayed a wafer cone almost seductively.

“You know you want it.”

He groaned.

“I do. Give that cone to me before I regret it.”

“Hell yeah.” They laughed and Yuri had his éclair cone in no time. He took it with care and smiled thankfully to the girl. “My name's Charlie, by the way.”

“Yuri.” He outstretched his hand. “Yuri Plisetsky.”

They shook hands and Charlie nodded.

“ _Foreign_.” She smiled.

“ _'M_ Russian.”

“Oh! That explains the…” She gestured towards him.

“The accent? The height?” Yuri wondered.

“The face.” She giggled as she looked down. “You're… you're _very_ pretty. And handsome. At the _same time_.”

Yuri laughed against his cone, the coffee _did_ wake him up.

“Which is _very_ unfair, by the way!” She joked and Yuri laughed even louder.

“Ah, thank you.” He bowed just a little. “I'm used to hear about my accent and how it makes me seem even scarier.”

“I'm sorry but I don't know how scary you can look with glitter in your face and pink lipstick.”

Yuri nodded.

“I literally just came from a presentation. I was _so_ hungry I didn't even finish cleaning my face.” He sighed, licking his gelato. “ _Aaand_ several glasses of wine make me way more approachable.”

“That I can tell.” Charlie leaned over the marble counter. “You came by with that ridiculously good looking couple and while they looked like they were walking in the sky…”

“As they _usually_ do…”

“You looked ready for _murder_.” She looked away for a second before smiling apologetically at him. “Then I got to take a closer look at you and then I thought that _maybe_ you weren't that mean.”

“I'm not.” He admitted. “It's all smoke and mirrors so people won't get too close to me. But I like you so it's fine…” He winked.

“What a coincidence! I happen to like you too.” Charlie admitted.

Yuri finished his espresso and ran a hand through his hair.

“That’s a relief.” He laughed.

Charlie coughed a little, almost trying to push her next words out of her throat, and blushed as she spoke.

 “I spent my whole shift trying to gather the strength to talk to you and maybe, I don't know, invite you for a drink?”

“Oh sure, I'd love it!” He kept eating his gelato joyfully. “Victor, the _other_ Russian? He says I need more friends _my_ age. He's my annoying cousin _always_ meddling in my life and…”

“I meant as, I don't know, maybe something else?” Charlie rubbed her nape. “Like a date? I'm sorry if it's too rushed but…”

“Oh my _God_.” He sighed. Biting into the cone he shook his head. “Honey I'm so _sorry_ , and… So, _so gay_.” He laughed, feeling the alcohol still bubbling on his veins, plus the girl was incredibly sweet. Charlie was truly the nicest girl _ever_.

“You're kidding.” She rolled his eyes, groaning, and Yuri shook his head. “Oh dear, I just made a fool of myself…”

“No, this is fine!” He laughed. “You're lovely and super pretty too! I just, y'know, didn't know you thought of me that way.”

Charlie sighed.

“Ah you're so sweet.” She smiled brightly. “I’m sorry I should've asked in the first place.”

“None of that!” Yuri finished his gelato and wiped his lips, rubbing off the lipstick in the process, munching the rest of his cone. “Listen I would set you up with one of my friends from the company but like the two suckers I came with they're either _raging_ homosexuals or taken and _sickly_ in love.”

He wasn’t used to joke, but this girl surely made him feel like it. They both laughed loudly and Yuri sighed at her.

“Hey, I've never been with a girl!” She shrugged and Yuri’s smile didn’t disappear.

“ _Amazing_.” Yuri pulled out his phone. “So there's this girl Maria, she’s really cool. If you like the awfully confusing beauty she's _just_ your type.”

Charlie laughed, nodding.

“And what's _your_ type?”

Yuri froze in his place, rubbing his temple.

“ _Specific_.”

“Meaning?”

Yuri breathed deeply, putting his phone down.

“I like guys that look like they can, _and will_ , bench-press you.”

Charlie laughed.

“You're right. _Specific_.”

Yuri blushed, _one_ unmistakable image coming to his mind as soon as he spoke.

“I like… dark eyes and shy smiles. Undercuts and, I don't know, _tattoos_?”

“Wow. He sounds like a dream.”

“ _They_.” Yuri remembered, faking a cough and looked up to Charlie with an ounce of embarrassment from the first time since they started talking.

“There's more than _one_?!”

“Don't even get me started…” He groaned, rubbing his face. “It's complicated.”

Charlie bit her lip.

“It must be. I don't mean to pray, I'm sure I don't know open relationships are cool and everything but…”

“That's sadly not the case.” Yuri admitted.

“Then why can't you just choose _one_?” She murmured just for him to listen, and Yuri nodded furiously at her.

“I know what you mean! Believe me I _agree_ but…” He rolled his eyes. “I made a huge mistake and I'm afraid I'll end up hurting one of them.”

Charlie looked at him with concern.

“Well you _will_ but I'm sure you're hurting them the most by leaving them hanging. I don't want to intrude but I truly believe you should get your shit together.” They laughed and Charlie reached for one of his hands. “Seriously. I'm just a waitress from a city you don't even live in but I believe there's something _bigger_ than yourself in all of this.”

“You think?” Yuri questioned.

“ _Probably_.” She sighed. “I'm guessing this is clearly not an ego contest between the men in your life, otherwise at least one would've dropped out. I have three brothers; I _know men_ have pretty big pride… So this is not only about you only but also about _them_. About who can care for you the most and who will love you more. It sounds dumb, _I know,_ but it feels like they're watching the other go after you and see how they do.”

Yuri huffed as he laid down a pair of bucks for his coffee and gelato. Charlie took them and paid his bill with a little whistle as Yuri spoke.

“It's just _two_ of them; don't make it sound like there's a pack of rabid men behind me.”

Charlie sighed.

“Thank God there _isn't_.” She raised her hands on a defeating manner. “I think once you make your choice, whatever it is, both of these guys will let go of each other's throats. They just want you to _truly_ follow your heart instead of overthinking the same stuff over and over again without a real answer. One that comes from your _feelings_ , not your thoughts.”

Yuri's bounced his head in agreement.

“You're… You're amazing. Sounds reasonable to me.”

Charlie winked.

“If they don't work out you know where to find me! If you ever feel like trying something else…” She offered cheekily and got off of the bar.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Yuri said.

“I'm checking out but think about what to do now; I don't think it's fair _for you_ to be so hung up on two guys at the same time. Give your heart a rest.”

“Thank you for listening, Charlie.” Yuri got off of his stool and followed her sheepishly. “I was afraid of talking about this but you… you made everything _so easy_. Thank you.”

“I bet you needed it.” She scribbled something on her note pad and tore the sheet of paper for Yuri. “Here's my number. Maybe that Maria girl's up to something tomorrow or you want to rant some more about your undercuts. Have a good night, Yuri.”

He snickered.

“Thank you again. For everything.” He took the sheet of paper and saved it on his wallet. “Take care, Charlie.”

She nodded and walked away as Yuri found his cousin and Yuuri arriving from their walk on the beach sobered up and a bit messier than before. Yuri didn't even want to _think_ about it.

“Ready?” He asked, trying not to stare at the spot on Victor's jaw that _definitely_ looked like a hickey.

“Sure!” Yuuri said, taking his bag and pulling Yurio on a tight hug.

“What the hell Katsudon?” He barked once he was released.

“I just think you're not hugged enough by your friends.” He ruffled his hair. At least what he could from the locks that escaped the grip of his bun. “That's it.” He said nonchalantly and proceeded to walk out with Victor, Yuri barely following them with care on his steps.

Sometimes he _didn't_ understand them. But he couldn't care less.

_He loved them just like that._

In the cab, Yuri was pretty sure he fell asleep with his head against the cold window but he woke up comfortably leaned into Victor's frame. Yuuri was doing his best wiping off the rest of his makeup and his bun was perfectly undone by now. Maybe his hair still slightly knotted but his scalp wasn't burning now, at least.

“Are we home?” He asked, still drowsy with sleep before his mind fully rebooted. “At the hotel, I mean. _Sorry_.”

Victor brushed his hair slightly and Yuuri smiled.

“We're almost there.” He had a bunch of baby wipes in his lap and a little bottle of cream in his hands. “I'm putting this on your face right now but promise me you'll wash your face in the room.”

Yuri said something in a pissed off Russian and nodded as he leant once more into Victor.

“Hey, old man.” He murmured.

Victor chuckled before answering.

“ _Da_?” He said.

“I don't wanna be alone.” He admitted, burying his face on his cousin's chest. Sometimes, he was the only family he _felt_ he had.

“We can stay with you, _Detka_.” He answered with his hand caressing his cheek, almost in that annoying and _paternalistic_ matter.

“No.” He breathed in. “I mean for the rest of my life.”

Yuri wasn't looking, but he could tell Victor was sharing a concerned glare with his fiancé.

“You won’t, Yuri. You have us, Otabek and Nikolai…” His friend assured him, leaning closer to him to listen to his response.

“But what if I _will_?” He wondered, a broken sob choking his words. “I’ve already hurt all the people I care about. Beka must _hate_ me…”

“What's wrong, Yura?” Victor asked.

It took Yuri just a second to break apart.

“ _Everything_.”

_Luckily he had his family there._


	11. Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the only thing I've ever had any faith in  
> Grace- I know you carry us  
> Grace- and it was such a fucking mess  
> Grace- I don't say it enough  
> Grace- you are so loved
> 
> from ; Grace by Florence + The Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW ; mentions of war, trauma and allusions to PTSD
> 
> we did it ! ! ♡ This is it, thanks for anyone who ever read this. Have this extra long chapter as a farewell present.  
> As usual, forgive any mistakes and funny sentences. Y'know how this goes. ♡ ♡ Hope you enjoyed this one.

_October 7th._

**Yura;**

I know I’ve written a lot but I haven't mentioned this before on my past letters, so I think I have to say it now.

It pains me to an unknown extent to learn just now all of what you went through and not being able to help at all. I know that when I was away I wouldn't have been of much use either but still, I would've loved to help with some sort of kind words, at least. I wish you would've sent me all of this so I could've known about it before. Now everything seems clearer now.

I also have to mention how this one letter makes up for the one answer you've been waiting for since I came back. On regards of Jean-Jacques, at least. I know I've already answered to those where you mentioned JJ, Jean, on past correspondence but I think it's necessary to address our current situation since keep I thinking the same for every line you ever wrote about him. I've been meaning to say this for a while now.

_I understand._

I understand why you chose him in the past, why you looked for someone when I was away and why you ended up with him from _all_ the people in the world. And even if I still don't feel like it, and maybe I never will, I get why you didn't talk to him about me. Why you never brought up our engagement. Now I feel like an idiot for making you keep that one promise, our compromise, and walking away for longer than I intended to in the first place. Even if you ever sent those letters where you talked about him, I feel like our present wouldn't be much different.

To me, it all adds up.

You and I have a weird costume of saying things better when we're not face to face, no matter how much we mean them or need to say them to each other's eyes. Now, it feels like one of those times.

And even if you did all of what you did unapologetically, or if you do apologize for it now, I want you to know that I forgive you and that I still love you. Maybe our engagement is broken now, maybe you're choosing Jean… perhaps you don't want nothing right now and it's okay. It's fine, I'll do my best to be understanding now. I don't want to lose you for a fight with you or another man so I prefer to seek comprehension between us and keep our love alive one way or another.

You're my best friend. _You'll always be._

I want you to know that I'll always be yours, that you can always count on me and that in spite of time, distance, fight and other people you will never lose me. I won't let go either, if there's something that's more important than anything else in the world to me it's our friendship. And that always comes first. So let's make things right this time.

I won't keep anything from you now, and I won't lie either. I compromise to never make promises I can't keep ( _this one I can_ ) and I will always have in mind your best interests as well as mine and what could be ours, when together. I don't want to make things complicated anymore; we've always been _easy_ even if life's the one that got hard.

_Together everything's easy._

Let me tell you that several days ago I went to Jean's office, I can't say I wasn't scared…The man clearly has everything I ever wanted and he sure does know how to provide, or so it seems like it, at least. I went over to talk about what happened the last time the three of us were together, to apologize and make things as clear as we both could. The exact words are irrelevant, all I suppose you must know is that he already stepped away and cleared my path to you. He asked, and said to me, a lot but I know I will not disappoint him. Or you.

I know you still have feelings for Jean; I know that you care for him and that the space I left behind was filled with your own story and your own kind of love. You were there for each other. More than that, he was there when I wasn't. He did what I should've done: _stay by your side_. If you chose him I will back off too, I won't engage in any other kind of banter and I will let you two in your own way. I wish you luck, happiness and love. Like the one I bet you already had before we all got tangled up in this mess.

But now it doesn't matter, it's all in the past.

Still, you and I can either pick off where we left it all of start all over again. It's always been up to you. All of it. You can choose whatever you want to choose and I will support you. I know you have a lot to think about, I know you have a lot to do and neither Jean nor I must be your priority. I know there's much more in your life than either of us. And whatever the end of all this is, I will accept it and keep on being your best friend. I trust you, for I know you will do what's best.

All my love, support and encouragement in the world are for you. I love you.

**Otabek**

_p.s. I have so many letters yet to answer, I feel like I will never finish_ …

**-** **♡** **-**

The first package of letters coming from his city arrived right before the company left the coast.

Yuri received the small, albeit heavy, box in the lobby counter with a couple of stamps and a scribbled heart on the lid in red color. The marker bled a bit on the edges and the ' _FRAGILE_ ’ seal might've given away the fact that the package maybe hasn’t been treated carefully.

 _Could it be_ his _?_

“This arrived during the afternoon.” The concierge told him.

“Thank you.” Yuri bit his lip. “Thanks.”

The woman nodded and gave him a small smile before he headed off to his room. Managing his bag and the box, he barely made it to his room where Yuuri was already packing up again before they left again the next afternoon.

“Hey Yurio.” He was greeted as soon as he opened the door.

“ _Don't_ call me that!” He barked and almost threw the box at him.

Yuuri snickered and walked towards the door, he was still wearing some makeup but he ditched his costume for a perfectly tailored suit in deep black with red, subtle, accents.

“What's that?”

 “Something that came in the mail for me.” He said casually and his friend shrugged.

“Uhm, well I'm going to have dinner with Victor and Guang-Hong went out for drinks with the musicians. You should go out or…”

Yurio shook his head.

“I'm staying here.” He affirmed and walked away from Yuuri before anything else happened. He just paced away and ignored his friend when he said goodbye. Instead, he ran to the bathroom to take a quick shower and throw on his pajamas. His heart kept beating crazily on his chest and his palms were sweaty as he tried to open the box with his hair scissors. His face was flushed and his hands trembled as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

The box opened up and Yuri turned it upside-down, letting a bunch of letters fall from it unceremoniously.

There were so, _so_ much of them.

Yuri's mouth fell open, his whole body shaking now as he opened the first envelope and dragged his eyes quickly over Otabek's distinctive letter. Small and precise, just a little inclined to the left in a black, bold ink.

He tore apart a second envelope, then a third and even a fourth.

All of them contained a full length letter, sometimes two pages long and different combinations of words and phrases that made up for answers to every letter he never sent him when Otabek was in war. Yuri saw two dates on the upper left corner, the first one belonging to the original date when he wrote a letter and the second one from the day Otabek replied to it, obviously recently.

Then he watched over the dozen and a half of letters and felt his eyes fill with tears of emotions he never got rid of.

It all came back to him.

Suddenly Yuri found himself feeling lonely and younger, scared to death for Otabek as he wrote sleeplessly into midnight away from Jean's curious eyes on some guest bedroom. He remembered the cramps in his hand and the way his shoulders ached the morning after from hunching over the desk for hours with no rest for his sore bones. He remembered almost perfectly everything he ever laid on those sheets of paper long forgotten underneath his pillow and the tears that may have caused the ink of his own to bleed through the paper. He knew what he said and felt all those days before as soon as he read one single letter over three times just to make sure he was actually living this.

_Otabek wrote back._

How could he hate Yuri if he actually wrote back?

Yura stayed reading up all night.

Guang-Hong never returned and neither did Yuuri, one probably too drunk to even walk and the other one properly saying goodbye to his fiancé. He had the whole night to open up every letter and read it as much as he wanted, letting his eyes dance over the words of his best friend until they couldn't stay open anymore.

Yuri read and _read_ , crying and even laughing all by himself as he pictured Otabek right by his side, hugging him and touching him, as he read everything. Time passed and sooner than later the night came to an end, the sun rise and Yuri watched it coming up from the ocean as he thought of Otabek and all of what he said. Of all his words.

Yet Yuri couldn't even handle himself in the morning. He fell asleep right before sunrise ended and the world seemed to shut down for him, almost as if he was dead. He missed a meeting for the first time in _years_ and, in the end, caused a dozen of dancers to ask for him when he wanted nothing to sleep. But his phone was off and Yuuri had to go and look for him to make sure he wasn't, in fact, _dead_ because he simply wasn't giving any signs of life by the afternoon.

When the older dancer arrived he found Yuri sleeping in a bed of paper, clutching to the envelopes like a kid to a teddy bear as he breathed evenly and kept his face still with peace.

Yuuri, always respectful and thoughtful, didn't even dare to touch an envelope to see what Yuri's mess was about and instead clothed his friend with an extra blanket and packed up for him once he assured his producer that their dancer wasn't in a coma.

_It felt like the first time Yuri truly rested in forever._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Jean had never felt _so_ good.

For the first time in his life he thought he actually did the right thing when it came to his heart.

Before it was all insecurities and second guessing of what Yuri thought and wanted, of how he felt. He used to be the one always worrying about their relationship and under the pressure of society's exigencies and expectations, so frustrated over the fact that he had to be that picture perfect couple for the world to approve what they had. It made Jean sick, turning him into some kind of lifeless lover who only served to his partner in exchange for acceptance into a world so cruel he still didn't have much choice but to follow its ridiculous rules.

At least it was all about him,

JJ loved Yuri, _truly_. But sometimes it was hard to love someone who seemed to have a world of their own inside both of their heart and head. He didn't understand it back then, he only accepted the fact that Yuri was complex on a way he could never figure out and loved him setting that aside. Now he knows it's all because of his past and where he left it, from all he carried around everywhere because he also lived on his own kind of uncertainty and doing that, now JJ looked back on it, had nothing on Jean's superficial worry.

When he wondered why Yuri didn't call back, his lover was too busy praying for the life of another man.

_Now it all made sense._

Maybe in the past it didn't, and that's why Jean never truly felt like he had found his place on that relationship. Maybe it was why Yuri also couldn't take his hand in marriage even when he was still waiting on Otabek and an engagement that he _didn't_ know if it truly existed anymore. Maybe it wasn't only about the past but the way they found themselves to be just a chapter and not the full story.

JJ hated giving up, but more than that he hated not deserving what he wanted.

And even if he truly had won over Yuri's heart and affections one way or another, he truly hadn't _earned_ them like Otabek did.

Why did he give up Yuri? It was all because he knew Yuri could still do better than him. That there was one man out there who went through hell and back with nothing but the image of Yuri's face on his head as he did so.

And JJ had to _admit_ that wasn't simply something he could do for him. He had never been _that_ kind of good guy. As well as he had never been the nice one.

_He just didn't have it on him._

But for once he knew he _had_ to be.

Yet, if there was ever a universe where Yuri chose him he also knew he would welcome him with open arms. Now that's where he would feel fully satiated, knowing there's no other man that could've been because he was picked out even with _him_ on the same lane.

It was unlikely, he knew.

But sometimes he could still afford a bit of dreaming. 

A couple of days after Otabek stopped by at his office, JJ felt like he had to blow some steam off and there were very few places he could do that with a little bit of alcohol thrown in the mix for his doom, or _break,_ as he would call it.

After a long day of hard work, Jean walked out of his office straight to Leo's bar with a skipping on his step that took him right into the venue once the night had fully settled in.

Loosening the first three buttons of his gray shirt and cuffing his sleeves, Jean made his way to the bar to ask for a large beer to start the evening. He leaned on his stool and turned off his cellphone for a good measure. Slowly he drank his beer and suddenly he was comfortably nestled among several other empty bottles that laid around his elbows as he chatted cheerfully, and a bit loudly, with the barman who seemed to have some real interest for his arm tattoo. Jean had a great time showing off his bicep and drinking his tequila like there was nothing to ever worry about.

What harm could do a night of freedom?

He would think none until he saw Otabek's friend.

The stone faced Asian man with the feather like hair and brooding eyes staring at him like he could bore holes into the other man's frame. Jean nodded at him and suddenly the smaller one was walking on his direction with some sort of wicked determination and well- _hidden_ need painting his expression.

Jean asked for a couple more of shots, welcoming the man into his space when the bartender laid down his drinks.

“Care to join me?” He wondered.

The other one said nothing, taking the thumb glass and downing its content in one steady swing.

He smashed the glass down on the counter and asked for another round as Jean caught up to him.

“Seung Gil.” He introduced himself.

“Jean.” The other one said, not even nearly as suave as he would've liked to. “Jean-Jacques.”

“ _I know_.” He huffed. “Missing Yuri, much?”

Jean lied for his own benefit.

“Not exactly. We broke up long time ago.” That was partially true.

“I saw you the other night…”

JJ laughed bitterly.

“What a night.” He cleared his throat. “It wasn't _that_ important, we just… got together again but I don't think it meant much. Not after its ending, you saw him with Otabek.”

Seung-Gil drank his second shot and nodded.

“I did.” His face was still unreadable and yet his eyes sparked with some alluring desire. “Do you still think about him?”

Jean swallowed his second shot before answering, honestly.

“ _Yeah_.” He admitted. “I do.”

“Let's get him out of your head.”

Seung-Gil pulled Jean to his feet. He dragged him to the upper floor and cornered him behind the dance floor when they made it past the crowd around it.

Jean didn't say much as the shorter male undid the rest of his shirt buttons, the strobbing lights were away from him and even if he was smaller his torso was broad enough to cover JJ's bare skin. He licked his lips and bit the inside of his cheek when Seung licked a long and wet stripe across his toned chest. The man was barely sober enough to know what he was doing, but before Jean's decent streak made him push away Seung pressed a finger against his lips, almost like he had read his mind.

“I know what I'm doing.” He said, accent thick on his tongue. “I've been wanting to for a while. I'll make this better.”

Then he was kissing Jean.

His lips were more on the dry side but they were so full JJ had to swallow down a moan once he bit into them. Seung was experienced and didn't doubt on playing with the other's mouth. His tongue was far more daring from what JJ was used and his body was fuller with muscle, making him as dominating as Jean and he fought for the lead like JJ hadn't felt it in a while.

_He's not him._

“Don't move.” Seung-Gil almost shoved his head into the wall when he turned around, squatting widely until his ass was safely seated into Jean's lap. He circled his waist once, then twice and JJ couldn't stand being still anymore. But he was not going to disobey; it was nice to be in this position for a change.

Seung hit him with a devilish smirk and pushed his rear before grinding him with earnest effort. He matched the music perfectly and even with his bulky back, he managed to arch perfectly, _sensually_. His hips were a bit wider than Jean's but he opened his legs to welcome him until they were flush against each other. Swinging dangerously, the younger pulled Jean into another searing kiss and dug his fingers into his thigh. Jean groaned into the other's mouth and pushed his own center further into Seung-Gil’s heat.

“You're so good Jean-Jacques.” He heard the other moaning breathily before nodding, more like accepting the compliment rather than affirming the other's statement.

That was also new.

The position was awkward and almost painful, Jean let him go and focused on sliding his bare hands into the other’s shirt. Palming the muscles of his back he glided his fingertips until they were drilling into his abs.

Seung swayed once more, now with JJ's leg between his and pushed his quickly hardening length into the taut muscle. Jean shivered at the sudden touch and pushed his leg further up. Seung-Gil moaned loudly and Jean drank the sound like he was _thirsty_ for it. Jean now licked the other's throats before biting just below the nape. Seung shivered and rolled his waist just right and hard against Jean's center, causing him to moan loudly against the other’s head. Seung’s smaller hands roamed to his ribs on a complicated angle until he had them inside Jean's back pockets, he managed the position with ease and made JJ let him move to his own damned peace. They grunted at the same time and Jean kissed his shoulder after pulling the fabric of his shirt to the side.

His skin was so soft.

They were encaged by the other, dancing now together and doing their best to fully get to know each other’s bodies through the haze of alcohol and desire. Seung was _hot_ and he acted like he knew it, like he wanted to destroy JJ and he would let him.

“Let's keep this up.” He said and Seung-Gil only agreed with another thrust of his hips. Jean _liked_ this. It was new, it was different, and it did wonders to keep certain green eyes out of his head for a very long time. He wanted to feel this excitement forever, this emotion and somehow intimidating honesty for as long as he could.

_He had nothing to lose._

**-** **♡** **-**

The last letter Otabek wrote was saved for the end of the tour.

Even if it might _not_ change a thing.

He knew it was almost a dead effort to try to make up for his own mistakes. He knew he should've done things better, maybe not making Yuri wait for him or being just a little bit more reasonable about his military leaves. He could've taken the first one he had and then went back to keep escalating through the different positions inside the Air Forces. He could've dropped the engagement, _explicitly_ , leaving Yura as his best friend like other times in the past that they did just that. He could've written even when Yuri didn't send his letters; he could've called like those very few times they had done it. He could've come when he stopped hearing from Yuri. He could've done so much, so different, to make everything _better_. To make everything right and he didn't.

_He never did._

But it was no use now. He had said it. The past is way beyond behind them and Otabek, _somehow_ , still had a margin where he could work to make things alright once again. Now he had a clear path, a renewed faith and a _purpose_ that fueled his need to fix things with Yuri. He could do it and he tried, as hard as he could.

But time flew by like it had somewhere to be.

The tour had two weeks to go, still, and it was far up in the North for the last time of the year. Otabek couldn't get there fast enough but he tried to sort everything as quickly as he could to get to Yuri on one of his first shows before he went for the complementary presentations.

He wanted to see him dance on a big production; since he came back he hadn't enjoyed the opportunity of seeing the younger on a bigger stage with such an important role. He wanted to be there for a night, even if Yuri wouldn't know he was there until he finished, and watch him enjoy himself doing what he loved the most. Otabek really loved to see Yuri dancing whether it was dedicated for him or _not_ , it still made his heart beat heavily and his lips to curl up in a smile that he wouldn't give up for the world.

Also, he had to be there once the last letters arrived to make his point, to get his statement to the other side of the table where he would finally be able to just tell Yuri everything he had to say, to let him know all there was to know. He had a reason to follow Yuri and even if before he still wanted to do it, now he had much more than willpower behind him to actually get through it.

Sometimes it was hard for him to do _stuff_ without an actual reason. Like those times where he couldn’t even move up in the air until he had a direct order from mainland, Otabek still waited for some sort of permission or confirmation to actually do what he wanted. It was like standing still in the middle of the ocean, just moving enough so he wouldn’t sink and looking up to the skies until a cloud allowed him to keep swimming in search of the shore.

Otabek was quite a case, too.

_And he had much to do about it._

Otabek had sent the last batch of letters three days ago, with an urgency stamp so he could get there after Yuri read them to the last one. This was kind of crucial to his ongoing mission, he knew. It had been almost half a month since he started sending his own letters to Yuri once more and even if he slept less and his hand seemed to be on constant pain, he knew he had done the right thing. He felt it deep in his bones and whenever he felt like he would go crazy if he didn't call Yuri in that moment, Otabek would just take a seat and keep writing until there were several packages on his name traveling to a certain dancer that, he expected, would receive them with a heart full of joy.

He could picture him that way.

His therapist had encouraged this, and if it wasn’t for her probably Otabek wouldn’t really bring himself to reply to all those letters he took that afternoon on Yuri’s room without an actual reason to do so.

But sending them was _hard_.

_Almost a burden._

Now he was restless, anxious to the point of feeling he could pass out inside the train booth he has been for during his trip to the North, holding tightly his backpack has he thought of green eyes and a fiery dancer that wouldn't let Otabek rest. He pictured him by his side, kissing his neck and calling him all sorts of names in deep Russian that would get to his knees. Otabek knew Yuri was still the same kid he fell in love with in highscool but at the same time he was a completely different man who he would have to know all over again.

_And there wasn't anything as exciting as that._

Yuri had to take him once more, first.

But still, it was facing an unknown element all over again. Otabek _knew_ he wouldn’t be an enemy, ever, but still it made him uneasy the prospect of having to deal with strong feelings and emotions towards somebody he might not even know. It was like walking on the area surrounding the military base, he did it every week for hours but it never got better. He was always afraid, always nervous, and alert and in wait for catastrophe as he paced carefully over the same mud he had been stepping for months.

Yuri, sometimes, was no different.

At least that was what Otabek felt.

He knew Yuri, he was still his best friend who loved dancing, sleeping and his car but hated hospitals because they reminded him of his grandpa and the parents he lost. He still loved flowers and preferred his hair down but none of that meant he would still prefer sleeping alone than with his lover. It didn’t meant he was not willing to be so openly affectionate or that he hated pet names. It didn’t meant he longed for midnight strolls and lazy morning kisses, maybe he didn’t even like to read the same books he and Otabek adored, or that he still listened to the mix-tapes they made together in high school.

And it was _unnerving._

Otabek felt his breathing grow unsteady, a ghost pain shot his shoulder and he shivered as he realized he was getting lost in his thoughts again. Reaching for his bottle of water, he took a couple of his weakest pills laying in the bottom of his backpack and swallowed them dry before drinking from his bottle as he hoped for sleep to pull him into some kind of peace. His head wouldn't leave him alone if he kept going over the same damn things during the whole trip and he had a long way to go.

_But he knew, he wasn’t entirely safe even asleep._

**-** **♡** **-**

Yuri bit his lip, staring at the tiger lilies that laid on top of his makeup desk.

_What had happened?_

It was easy to figure out that he had been here, probably even in the bleachers as he watched Yuri dance like nothing was wrong. He obviously came here with a purpose and Yuri knew it had _everything_ to do with him.

Still, he didn’t believe it.

He felt like when he was in high school. Back when Otabek would make it to his presentations after long hours with his family or back from college during Yuri's senior year. He remembered how he would crash the theater in ripped jeans and faded rock shirts that stood out more than he'd like to admit but Nikolai, always fond of his best friend, saved him a seat and greeted him politely when he found him. The people around them might've looked judgmentally on his way but it didn't truly matter, Beka was far too _proud_ of Yuri to even kind everything and anything else. It was sweet, somehow, and Yuri hated that he never fully knew if he could make it to the performances. It wasn't as exciting to hop on the stage not knowing who was watching as when you expected someone's eyes on you _all_ the night. Nowadays he found his own pleasure, regardless of who saw him or didn't, and enjoyed every second on the stage. But sometimes he felt the need to give his presentations a different, or more special, edge so it could hold more meaning.

Yuri wished Otabek could've told him that he was going to be there.

_They were always like this._

“Otabek was here as soon as you were at the curtain call.” Guang-Hong said. “Yuuri helped him, but he left once he had it all set. His train leaves in ten minutes.”

Candles around his dressing table lit up the letter glued to the mirror along with the lipstick note on it.

 _'I don’t know how you did it_.’ It read.

Waiting, Yuri knew, wasn’t something Otabek had in him.

And then Yuri thought of the letters he had received mere days before. The ones he spent his whole bus trip to the north reading until he felt like throwing up. Lila scolded him for reading while on the way, with the curves of the highway far too pronounced to even let Yuri focus on the small lettering of his best friend. Yet he couldn't stop, the past weeks where he would receive them were just the relief his heart needed and it helped him focus like nothing else had managed to make him concentrate for his performances. Yuri was in love with every sheet of paper and sentence it had been written on it that when he got the last big envelope at the lobby of his hotel he clutched it to his chest like a lifeline until he made it to the back of the bus. Potya purred contently on his chest and Yuri read and read until he had to run to the bathroom. He couldn't help it; those letters gave him the calm and peace he needed to continue with the tour when he missed him hard enough to just run back to him.

He shook his head.

It was no use on thinking all of that it all had changed now.

“Did he say anything?” Yuri asked, looking up at Yuuri who had seemed like he just appeared from thin air.

“Only wanted you to read the letter as soon as you could.” He gestured towards the envelope in the mirror. “That's all.”

With trembling hands, Yuri took the letter and blew the candles until his desk smelled of smoke and nectar coming from the flowers. He looked at the cream envelope with yearning eyes and laid it down as he sat on his chair.

“We'll leave you alone.” Yuuri said and pushed Guang-Hong and other peeking dancers away from Yurio with a clicking tongue and strong arms.

Even if the candles were out, he could still see his reflection in the mirror with the light coming from behind him. Then he turned on the table lamp and read the lipstick note over and over again. Otabek's cursive had never been perfect but it was legible enough to make Yuri smile widely at it.

He knew he couldn't reach Otabek now that he already left and his train would soon be on its way. Therefore he sighed and pictured him on the crowd while he untangled his hair from his tight bun, he wiped his face carefully and even fought the pressure off of his chest when he looked at the envelope. His heart picked up a quicker rhythm and suddenly he felt like there was no air. He was half undressed but he picked up the letter.

_It is real._

Opening up the envelope Yuri retreated the sheets of paper with trembling fingers. Suddenly he couldn't hear a thing but the thundering of his veins inside his ears.

He unfolded the paper and laid his eyes on one single Polaroid over Otabek's writing.

_Yuri felt like time hasn't passed by._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Otabek had made Yuri swore he wouldn't call when he was on the base and in return he promised his best friend to do the same. They knew phone calls would be far too emotional, _too hard_ , to even try it when Beka was gone. Yuri complied, agreeing to it only because he also felt a call would be too much for him. They said only birthdays and emergencies would allow such a _torture_ and with pressed lips they just nodded it off.

That had been why they settled over letters.

The army allowed their forces to write as much as they wanted once the training was over. They would have much to learn in the first few months but once they were settled they could use the army post service to their liking. It had been a relief to be able to communicate after the long physical tests and trials imposed on Otabek by the first month that stretched into proper training and even education to form young, bendy people into sturdy men of combat.

Otabek remembered perfectly his first letter.

He also remembered how Yuri sent his own reply to the wrong base and Beka didn't heard from him until a month later when the letter was remitted to the right place and he had already three pieces of spare correspondence for him simply because Otabek couldn't think of much but talking to Yuri.

He remembered the days when he couldn't focus because he missed Yuri too much, the sleepless nights where he spent more time thinking and wondering what would the younger be doing rather than getting some rest. Then in the mornings he would wake up not even tired, just a little bit _sadder_ and his day would go on with a severe case of daydreaming that had him on the veil of numbness and unconsciousness. He was there, doing everything as told, following orders mechanically and turning into an example of perfect obedience without him noticing it. He was far too busy with his thoughts to realize he had become the perfect soldier.

_He didn’t even care._

Otabek wrote anytime he could and when there was nothing to say, and he just had to wait, he executed every order perfectly with his head somewhere else.

It wasn't until he was thrown into battlefield that it changed.

But there's no use on thinking of that, no one could even think of _anything_ when they were being blinded by explosions and their heads thundered with the ringing of bullets and barking of his superiors. When you were truly at war, the only thing you could think about was _war_.

Otabek supposed that was why he managed the last years without Yuri's letters, he was bone deep into his tasks as a Commander and whenever he laid his hands on a piece of machinery he would turn into a human tool. If he was on air or on ground, piloting or directing his squad, everything disappeared and it was just _him_ and his _work_.

War turned itself into work and it was the only thing he could think about.

It was only on his dreams where he allowed himself to see Yura once more, to talk to him and wonder what was _on_ with him.

But once he woke up he was back to being a soldier, a man of combat and not a heartbroken boy who used to manage the training drills automatically.

Otabek thought of his time in the air forces as a lesson in sacrifice and reality, he used to think it would all be much easier once he gave Yuri what he needed but instead he was hit by the awful realization that there wasn't _anything_ that would make up for the scars in his body and the ghost of bullets across the sky.

It took him his first wound, a pair of big copper bullets into his thigh, to _understand_ he didn’t chose the easy path.

Beka had come to comprehend there wasn't anything that would alleviate his pains or that would set his mind free from the trauma he would spend the rest of his life resisting.

He might not regret it.

But he sure knows there were _other_ ways to do it all.

Sometimes he finds himself thinking of his mistakes before he went to the army, like dropping out of college or trying to open his own workshop before time. His mother never said anything when it came to his decisions and not even his father warned him about anything, they just smiled and told him to do what _he_ thought was right. _Sometimes_ Yuri was there as a beacon of light that would scream at him whenever he did something wrong, but as Yuri was _unstoppable_ sometimes Otabek was _unmovable_ and he did what he wanted.

Most of the times.

And yet, he still struggles with the weight of his decision. It’s heavy on his back and Otabek finds himself constantly reconsidering every step he ever gave in his life. What made him turn to violence and blood like it was nothing?

_He never looked back._

War is the most horrible thing to ever experience, there were different degrees to it, actually, but from the least to the maximum it was _equally_ distressing and it managed to turn everyone into people they _weren't_. War was everything that happened to be wrong in the world, condensed into a senseless conflict that claimed innocent lives and hurt beyond measure. War was the last thing Otabek expected himself to be in.

And yet he never said no.

The days were long, the nights even longer and he felt like he would never finish scrubbing all the blood and dirt that accumulated on his skin and hair, under his nails and in the corners of his yes. Otabek used to think he would never go back home, no matter how many planes he took or how far away he was from his camp. He thought it was all _lost_.

But Yuri's letters were there, probably more reliving than his family's and far more soothing than any newspaper that would make its way to the base. Yuri was kind and sincere, much more tranquil when no one was there to watch him and judge him and Otabek loved every letter he ever got.

They were his everything.

When Otabek came back, the only thing he truly wanted to take with him were all those envelopes and pieces of paper that barely made it to his bag. Of course he had to grab his clothes, his uniform, the combat set and even a pair of his weapons. It was intimidating to store such big pieces of cruelty in a simple bag but he did it once he was sure every trace of Yuri was with him. His jackets and his books, the note pads where he wrote everything he learnt and that had to be done, his family's correspondence and that one picture he had of them with his family and Nikolai from his last birthday back home. He also stored safely his Polaroids, the one he hoarded jealousy through the years and everything that brought nothing but good memories to him.

War was the worst thing in the world and yet Otabek managed to grab a couple dozen objects that he could hold on to, to survive.

_Even if he healed at all._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

A very young Otabek Altin looked back at Yuri from the picture. He was smaller than now, arms much slimmer and shoulders not quite as broad. He wasn't as bulky and the soldier uniform seemed to clung to his frame like a hasty coat that didn't really fit him. He was serious but his eyes held a kind of severe determination that was only seen on veterans that came back from war to never, _ever_ return. There was a halo of sadness on his entire demeanor but Otabek managed to make it his own and shine despite of it. He was gorgeous, all sturdy angles and strong features that would turn harder with time but he didn't know that yet so he tried to fight back a smile. His hair was much shorter and his face unscarred, Otabek was fresh from the city and carelessly thrown into a life he was not prepared for.

He was _so_ young.

_Yuri lifted the photo and read the letter._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Otabek carried around _more_ than scars and forgotten letters, he had hold half-dead bodies and corpses from both his supposed enemies and partners, he had buried children and women, old men and young kids who didn't had a reason to be stripped from their lives for something they had nothing to do with. He had _tried_ to save lives and failed more than he'd like to admit, he did his best on keeping low his number of taken lives and even more the civilians that found their way on the crossfire. Otabek had tried to do _everything_ in his power to make things just a little less bad and even if he didn't accomplish if fully he still had a piece of peace within his heart for he knew he did what he could.

But at the same time he didn't believe it.

There was a larger part that told him he _hadn't_ done shit.

That's where the nightmares came from, where the flashbacks and the shivers ran around his body and stabbed him restlessly. That's how he collapsed into himself, how he cried into the mornings and how he lost _every_ wish to sleep and even _live_.

Nobody ever should even wonder about what happens in war, how it must feel like or what one becomes. Otabek knows all of it and he wouldn't wish it to anyone.

_It was so unfair._

Today, it had turned him into a lost person who still woke up to the sounds of thunderstorm like it was an explosion. He still heard bullets in a broken car exhaust and felt blood in anything slightly thicker than water. War had ruined him and to this day he _paid_ for it.

He paid for his ambition, his lack of patience and past urgencies. He paid for those mistakes he knew he had made.

It wasn't like he regretted his decision, not _entirely_. His time in combat gave him what he wanted, gave him the money and built his character. It turned out to work on him how he'd expected it to work, pressuring him and breaking him apart so Otabek could reborn. It also gave him a steady job, experience and the knowledge he needed to go on in life. He learnt so much and did so much it was impossible for him to wish he hadn't gone. It was part of his life already, after all.

But he does wishes to just get _over_ it.

But he knows that's just not realistic.

 _It had been_ very _expensive._

Like in the battlefield, whenever he was alone he would think the worst, _feel_ the worst. There wasn't a thing that could brighten him up or make him feel better, he longed for home too much and dreamt of green eyes more than he rested. His heart ached every day and he couldn't even get rid of the sense of loneliness and pain that struck his entire body whenever he realized he _wasn't_ getting anymore letters. Otabek swam in the deep despair of being left behind, hurt and wounded as the world kept spinning and the time passing. He was, and he is, always facing what the war had caused on his life.

Heartbreak, pain, struggle.

It started when Yuri's letters stopped and it went in forever, sometimes even when he still had Yuri with him in his arms of mere meters within his reach. It was something he was used to live with now but hated every fucking _second_ of it.

_War had fucked him up._

Now he doesn't think he'll ever be who he was before again.

But he doesn't have to, whether it was for bad or good war changed him and now he had to _own_ it. Even if it ached to do so.

Otabek had much to do, just like when he was at service.

He couldn't slow down.

Otherwise everything would be far too much.

Time, space, feelings and memories would crawl up from his spine and rip at his scalp as they manifested on thoughts of deprecation and hate, as they manifested on fury and anger that would melt into his bones and would turn him into an unknown being even for _himself_. He had a lot to do to just stop _thinking_ or life would catch him up and the ghosts of war would find him to skin him alive until Otabek was _truly_ , fully unrecognizable. And he couldn't let that happen, he had much time do to be fighting against him when he already had fighting and conflict enough for a _lifetime_. He had to do better, _be better_ before it all was unbearable and he gave up.

_Sometimes it was all he wanted to do._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

“I need to get back to the city.”

Yuri pushed Guang-Hong against a wall and dropped to his knees as he felt his head rush hitting him on the skull. His vision went black for a second and then there was Yuuri holding him by his elbows. Yuri's heart thundered inside his chest and his lungs were filled with the hottest air as he tried to climb back up.

_Otabek was calling for him._

Yuuri shook his head and pulled him up, seating him on the closest stool and pressing his cold hands against Yuri's face.

“What the _hell_ Yuri?” He barked. “You scared the living _shit_ out of Guang-Hong. Breathe. What's happening?”

He shook his head.

“ _Otabek_. He has been writing for me for weeks and _this_ \- this is him again but it's _different_. I have to see him; I have to talk to him.” He breathed heavily. “I need to be with him.”

Yuuri looked like he was about to slap him. _Hard_.

“ _No_. Fuck that, you have a tour to finish. You swore yourself you weren't going back until–”

Yuri's chest exploded.

“That was _before_!” He choked on his screaming. “That was when I still doubted but now I'm _not_! Otabek's waiting for me and I've been thinking if no one but he and we need to talk. I need to have him back…”

Guang-Hong bit his lip and approached him.

“What about Jean?” He asked innocently, his sweet voice flying into the thick, bitter air.

“He was only taking care of me while Otabek returned.” Yuri muttered and held onto himself. “I've got to let him _go_. I've got to be with Otabek. I can't- _We_ can't be apart a second longer. Not now.”

The letter was clear as crystal, Otabek has no intentions of giving up unless Yuri tells him to drop everything but he _can't_ wait anymore and he needs to know if he's even a choice for the future and not a casual possibility only for the present. Yuri knows it isn't meant to pressure him to _this_ extent, of just dropping the tour and to go after his best friend to kiss him senseless and finally tell him everything he had been _thinking_ for the last two months. It's only a petition for him to come back to the city, whenever he wanted, with a head clear enough to make a smart, _fair_ decision but also to remind him how long and far _they've_ come. What they went through and what was yet to come. That they shouldn't, wouldn't, stand alone anymore.

Otabek wrote from his heart and, for the first time, Yuri didn't have the heart to just write another reply like it was nothing. He had to talk to him, hold him and admit what he has known all along.

_There's no one else._

Yuri only fooled himself thinking his heart is supposed to split because it couldn't decide between two men. How stupid of him to expect Otabek and Jean to understand and just wait, to make them pretend it was fine for him to be so cruel and unjust and ridiculously _greedy_ … but Otabek still waited for him, still loved him and did his _damn best_ to let Yuri think and focus on anything that wasn't _them_. He tried hard for Yuri, respecting their distance and giving him the time he _needed_. Even when he looked for him and didn't find him, he just stepped back and hoped for the best like that one time at the bar. Otabek was patient, loving, sacrificial and his _best friend_.

How could he give up his best friend?

_He wouldn't._

And he decided that in a _second_ after reading the letter but now he was short-circuiting like water had gotten into his brain and he couldn't see or breathe or think. All he could think k of was to get to Otabek, find him and take him into his arms and just- _stay_ with him. Forever. He was his best friend, the one who stood through thick and thin for and with him. The one who went to _war_ for _them_. For a better life together even if that meant _ruining_ his own.

Yuri shook his head and looked up to his friends.

Guang-Hong looked like he could just _cry_ out of frustration in that moment, he's used to everything simple and not painful and _this_ was exactly the _opposite_ of it.

But his answer is not one to go with his expression.

“Then just– _do it_. Fix this mess and, I don't know, fuck your boyfriend or whatever, _asshole_.”

Yuuri gasped, knowing very well Guang didn’t curse.

“ _Holy shit_ Yuri, just get out of here before Guang-Hong slaps you before _I_ do…”

Yuri, smiling mischievously at this new _development_ on his friend, nodded before going back to reality.

He kissed Yuuri's forehead and hugged a _very_ pissed-off Guang-Hong.

He ran to his dressing table and pulled all of his stuff into his bag messily. Carefully wiping of the mirror and storing the candles just for the thrill of the memory. He put on a pair of normal clothes and tried his best to not smash all of his makeup. Yuri still had to go to the hotel for his wallet and maybe take an actual shower. Probably not a priority but he knew he would feel _disgusting_ later in the night if he didn't scrub off the sweat from his body. He also had to have the letters with him, find out what was he going to say to the producers and Lila and figure out how what he was going to do with Potya _and_ –

“Just go, _Yurio_!” Guang screamed from the other side of the room. “I'll take care of your cat and all of your stuff. Leave already, _dumbass_!”

Yuri shook his head.

Then he nodded, Guang-Hong was right. As usual.

“Tell Diego he's in for my replacement!” He yelled back.

_He had to catch a plane._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

Otabek arrived to the city in the morning, half asleep and still dreaming of Yurio bolting across the stage.

He wondered where he'd be and what he must be doing. If he even read the letter already or if he didn't dare to do so just _yet_. He thought of him, all strong and cold and impossibly _beautiful_ , confused as what had Otabek done _now_. How could he just crash the theater, the backstage, and his dressing table and get _away_ with it in matter of a couple of hours. Otabek knew Yuri was a critical mind who, in face of complications, thought from judgment and analysis towards himself and how it affected him. He must be _hella_ confused, probably, if he hadn't read Beka's letter.

But what if he _did_?

Would he stay in the city? Would he call? Would he run after him or wait till the end of the tour? Was he an option, still? Did he already choose _Jean_?

Otabek didn't know a single answer to any of his questions, he felt uneasy as he crossed the catwalk from the train to the station and crossed groggily the arrivals door. He was so anxious he felt like throwing up, his head was clouded and he wished he could swallow all of his pills and never wake up.

 _He was devastated_.

Otabek took his bag and began to walk heavily outside the train station. He felt every step weight a thousand tons and _still_ he didn't want to take a bus or a cab.

He looked around the city and started to pace slowly towards his apartment. Otabek clutched the letter he fell asleep while reading with to his chest and rose his head just to pray for a second to all of his pain to fade away.

He hadn't felt this destroyed since his _last_ mission.

Cities like this always seemed to breathe, moving like a living entity and Otabek just wished it would die, It was an overwhelming sensation to be surrounded by so much people, such big buildings and all this air that never ceased entirely. Still, it helped him to take his head off from his thoughts for a while. He had to pay more attention to his surroundings than to his thoughts.

Otabek looked to the floor and allowed the cold autumn breeze to ruffle his hair and scratch his face, filling his lungs with it until he felt a knot in his stomach disappear.  

Whatever happened _now_ was out of his control. He wasn't in power anymore and he could only _wait_.

There was nothing else to do.

Walking through the streets, Otabek wondered _what_ he would do once he made it home. He didn't have to be in the workshop until noon and he slept all the night on the train. Even if he was tired, it wasn't the kind of restlessness that would fade with any kind of nap whatsoever so probably he would sort out the rest of the paperwork he had to do before the end of the week. Also, he had to take a bath and return that book he got from the Library last weekend.

He did have something to do, at least.

Otabek crossed the street as a strong wind hit him in the face once more, tearing Yuri's letter off of his hands easily by ripping it from the only corner Otabek still held it with his fingers.

He didn't even tried to reach it as he crossed the street, turning around on his heels just to watch the piece of paper flying across the closest buildings. It drifted through the concrete, slamming a couple of windows and disappearing into the dark, cloudy sky that thundered with the promise of rain.

Otabek looked down at the only remain of the letter.

_Forever in love with you,_

_Yuri._

**-** **♡** **-**

 

**Yura;**

I won't be around when you read this but I hope you can still picture me beside you as you do so. I hope you still think of me, anyway.

I crossed the country to watch you dance one more time before you came back, I know your performances change whenever you're expecting someone in the audience to watch you but I've always been curious about how'd you look when you're not dancing for anyone but your general audience. And yourself.

It started like that, I had planned to stop by at the tour without saying a word as soon as I could and then I realized I’m not as strong as you are.

Now you’ve got me wondering what are _we_ going to do, now.

It's selfish of me to be asking for so much so quickly, I don't want you to feel pressured but I thought I had tell you what I've been thinking if I'm watching you either way. I was struck with the fear of the possibility of this might being the _last_ time I get to see you as a free man. Whatever you choose, you will _not_ be the same once this is all over. And I'd like to keep an image of who you are now for the future, for the rest of my life.

We've known each other for as long as I can remember, we've always been best friends and I can't bear the idea of just being away from you. I know it might be too much to say but I just can't. Sometimes I think of you during my time at war and I feel so broken at the thought of us being apart. I know how I felt but after reading all your letters I can tell now that no matter who you were with, I was still part of your life.

And I'm _sorry_ for it.

Instead of letting you live your life, fall entirely for another man and pursuing your passions to the fullest you remained thinking of me and praying for me, at the verge of your patience because I was risking my life far away from you and you had to stay back hoping for the best. I'm sorry I stopped you when you’re unstoppable, for trying to hold you still and pin you down even miles away. It's not fair, _I'm not fair_. And I apologize for it, horribly and deeply.

I hope you can forgive me.

Still, all this time I've been writing I've also been thinking. I know we were supposed to talk when you get back but I'm afraid that would never happen. I know we've come a long way, I know we've been through everything together and still I feel like I'm not enough.

I've seen Jean, I've _known_ Jean. I know there's nothing that will quite put me besides him on that category of his own. I know he's like nothing in this world, that your love had turned him into whatever it is that you exactly need and I can see why. But is he really what you _want_?

We're so used to hear we can't have what we want because we always get just what we need, what's just and necessary to keep going but when has it ever been enough? We want the things we want because it's what's fit for us, what we crave the most from what we've missed all of our lives. What we lacked the most when we _had_ to have it… and I can't help but wonder: _is Jean what you want_? Because if he is I can't finish understanding why you turned him down or why you came back to me. I know it sounds like an accusation but I'm just letting my thoughts wander around.

Otherwise they'll come back to you.

I bet it has been hard to make this kind of decision, and it's one you have to do on your own. I don't want to press you or even persuade you, I know you'll do the right thing and I don't expect any less. But I do want you to know something I've learned lately and that's not easy but necessary to know.

Love lies; it deceives us with pink cheeks and sweet words that are never _fully_ meant. It tries to turn us around and destroy who we are for _somebody_ else. It lies because it hurts, it scolds and burns and makes us think of what we shouldn't be thinking. It makes us insecure, ashamed, somehow regretful of our decisions because in the end it can change us forever.

But it also finds its way to true hearts when it's real, when it's sincere, and it lies in the deepest part of our souls for us to treasure it. _When it lies in the right place_.

I _know_ I can be your right place.

But I can't say I _have_ to be, unless you want me to. I won't give up, I won't stop trying and I will do every in my power for you to know and understand you'll always have me. As a friend, as a lover, as nothing and everything at all I will always be here whenever you want me, whenever you need me. I'll be there. I'm _here_. It's not until you tell me to stop that I will, it's not until you ask me to leave that I will… if you don't want me you'll have to tell me. Otherwise I'll remain here as long as you'll allow me.

I've said it since I came back, that night in our place when I told you that if I could I would rip you off of anyone's hands and put you in mine unless you said no. And so far I've never heard you asking me to leave. So I'll stay, I’ll stay and I'll fight because I love you like I have _never_ loved anyone. I love you like I _won't_ love anybody.

Yura, I want you to know this is nothing but the last time I say this ever again.

_You have me for as long as you want me._

I won't mention it never in the future because I've been clear enough. I've you step back into the city and do what you've got to do I will wait patiently on the sidelines without anything else to say. I'm yours, and I'm at your mercy now. I only ask for clarity and decision when you come back and do what you ought to. Once you've taken your first step I'll be there all along the way for you as far as I can get.

If I’m not a temporary solution, you better tell me. If I’m in for the rest of the ride, I need to know.

I came expecting to see you dance but now I realize I came to let you know I’m the one you’ll always have. The one you can always count on for everything. I don’t want to be a second choice. I know I can be your only choice.

Think, and think of me the most, I know you know it too.

_I love you Yuri._

**Otabek.**

**-** **♡** **-**

 

 

Otabek opened the door to his place, fully arranged and empty of any remaining box or whatsoever, and stepped into the warm light of the living room.

Although it _wasn't_ what he'd expected it to be.

He thought he would be welcomed by darkness and cold air, a draft coming from an unclosed window and the smell of fresh paint barely fading. Dust falling from the ceiling and humidity surrounding him as soon as he stepped in. But it was all dry, warm with the light of dozens of candles and the smell of molten wax and essential oils filling his lungs with hot air. It was bright, _welcoming_ , how a home is supposed to feel with the brightness of love and care and _someone_ to come to and hug them.

That's what _Yuri_ was _there_ for.

Kneeling, smiling bashfully and with a little black velvet box between his lithe fingers He looked tired, purple circles under his eyes but a _fierce_ passion boiling inside his green orbs that almost turned gold with the lightning around him. His hair was down in his characteristic golden locks barely kept together by an elastic tie over his shoulder, lost strays framing his slim face and pink lips.

He was looking up to Otabek expectantly, hopefully, _adoringly_.

“What _the hell_ are you doing here?” Beka breathed after what felt like years.

“I took a plane.” His voice sounded so… _Small_. It wasn't the usual rumble of thick and dark accent that bickered and spat in the face. It wasn't strong and decisive, it sounded almost delicate and doubtful. “I had to get here. _To you_.”

He opened the jewelry box.

“ _Yura_ …” He breathed in.

“Beka.” He called him. “You’ve always been my only option.”

Otabek shook his head, shoving his bag towards the sofa and walking to him until he dropped to his knees. He couldn't even register the pain through all that he was feeling.

Elation, love, joy, _relief_.

“ _Wait_.” He cupped his face carefully.

Yuri's eyes were filled with tears as he let his hands fall in his lap.

“Hold me?”

Otabek crushed him into his chest, holding him tightly by the waist as he pressed a kiss to his head.

_There was so much to say._

“Otabek.” Yuri called him again.

He shook his head.

“Not yet.”

Pushing him back slightly, Otabek took in the picture of Yuri in front of him. He was so wonderfully real, a mirage in the greatest dessert of the world and he didn't even compare to the images that used to haunt Otabek at war. He was everything he dreamed of, all that he was on his fantasies and prayers when he slept too little to conceal some rest. He was an image out of his mind, there but _not real_ and Otabek's heart almost broke in a million pieces because he thought it wasn't real. He couldn't have it, he _didn't_ deserve it.

Yuri squeezed his shoulders with his arms and took his head to his knees.

_He was there._

“Please.” Otabek muttered then with wet eyes, tears falling to his face as he breathed shakily, lifting his head and looking up to Yuri with a torn expression after several minutes. “ _Tell me now_.”

Not even the light from the candles could outshine the man in front of him.

Powerful, graceful, heavenly.

_Yuri smiled like he was the sun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There ya' go ♡ This was, like, super self-indulgent so don't think too much about it. I had to get it off of my head and it turned into this mess but eh~ whatever, it's fiction after all, amirite? 
> 
> Thanks for those who read, don't forget to drop your kudos and, idk, if you loved or hated or just finished it maybe leave a comment. Yes, you can scream at me. ♡ ♡ Everything's very, very appreciated. Thank you, as always! 
> 
> come yell w/me @ victorkatsun.tumblr.com (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑ read you next time ! !

**Author's Note:**

> Some info on the work and the author below!
> 
> 27/04/2018  
> ✓ There's text aligned to the right, please don't forget that  
> ✓ Updates will be random and inconsistent, I'm a student first and foremost so school will always be my priority.  
> ✓ English is not my first language so forgive my mistakes and please be kind when pointing them out, I'm all in for improvement but I'm also prone to self-combustion when called out, whoops.  
> ✓ I LOVE JJ, he's not the bad guy in the story but yes his issues and his relationship with Yuri are a plot device. I would apologize but, ehhh... why should I?  
> ✓ We tackle some pretty sensitive topics but whenever that happens I will add a TW at the beginning of the chapter where they will be, so no surprises. Please be careful when reading them!  
> ✓ I don't know how foreign Military systems work and since this is a work of fiction, heppening in a fictitious universe and unnamed city, just pretend everything I write about this fake Army is legit, 'kay?  
> ✓ My research on mental disorders and illnesses is thorough, I don't pretend to know it all about them but bear with my representation of them. I promise it will be conscious and respectful.


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